Sophie Oak - Siren Beloved

“Fuck!” Dwight shouted beside him.

Someone started firing.

Aidan heard the Sarge yelling into the radio for help. Guerilla Squad was up the road, and they were on their way. Aidan hoped they had a medic with them, because Tanner was already down.

Aidan watched in horror as Sarge fell, a hole in his forehead. He’d shifted his helmet back, wiping sweat off his brow, and now he was gone. For a moment, Aidan couldn’t breathe. It seemed impossible. That building had been swept before by another squad who had proclaimed it safe and clean.

The world had slowed down, and Aidan felt locked in position.

Something struck his chest, sending him flying back, and he came out of his stupor. His heart raced. He had to do something.

Aidan brought the M-16 up and pulled the trigger, spattering the building with bullets. A body fell out of the window.

Chaos reigned. The ground around him exploded.

A stinging pain lashed at his face as a bullet whizzed by his head. He could feel the cuts and scrapes on his face begin to open. Blood began seeping from his cheeks, mingling with the sweat.

Aidan tried to focus. He dove for cover at the opposite wall. He sprang back up, trying to get a good line of sight.

His shoulder flew back as he took a bullet. Agony swept through him, but he remained on his feet.

The radio screamed out.

“Two men down. They’re dead—” There was a crack and then silence.

Aidan saw the glint of a gun from a broken out window. He aimed and fired. The gun, a freaking M-16—they were getting shot with their own weapons—fell to the ground below.

A sudden, shocking silence fell over the yard.

Aidan was pretty sure he could hear his heart beat. His hands shook. He ducked back down behind the wall, very aware now of a pain in his shoulder. Fuck . He’d been shot. He looked down at his body armor. The fucker had gotten him where he wasn’t protected, and now the armor was brushing against the wound. It was agonizing.

“You okay?” Specialist Charlie Link knelt down beside Aidan. They were covered by the wall, but an eerie silence had taken over.

“No.” Every word hurt. “I gotta get this armor off.”

“That’s a bad idea, O’Malley.”

“Please, it’s killing me. Guerilla Squad should be here any minute.” Aidan pulled at the fastenings of the body armor. It had saved his life, but now he couldn’t breathe in it. God, he couldn’t breathe.

Link quickly got the armor off, even as he protested the whole idea. Ike whined as he lay down beside Aidan. Aidan ran a hand over his body, checking for injuries. It looked like the dog had come out all right.

The minute the armor came off his body, he felt an immediate relief. His shoulder ached like a motherfucker, but he could breathe. Aidan took stock. The Sarge was dead. Aidan could barely comprehend it. Sarge was dead. Garza was almost certainly dead.

“Thompson?” Aidan asked.

Link shook his head.

“Tanner and Mills?”

Again, that tiny negative that indicated a wretched outcome.

“How?” Aidan had to ask. He knew the answer, but it seemed so ridiculous. How were they gone? Just minutes before, they were alive and joking. How could they be gone? It was supposed to be routine.

“Fucking Creely panicked.” Link’s voice was a mere whisper.

“What?” Aidan glanced over, and Dwight Creely was sitting with his back to the wall, his face a pasty white. He appeared to have vomited all over his armor.

Link’s mouth was tight as he whispered. “Keep quiet. I don’t think he’s in his right head. I tried to get his gun, and he damn near shot me. All I know is Tanner was beside me, and he was shot from behind. He took one in the neck. Creely didn’t jump for cover the way you and Thompson did. He just started shooting. He was behind us, so we were in his line of fire. That fucker is going to get court-martialed for sure.”

There was a loud crack, and Link’s body jerked. Link’s dark eyes stared down and Aidan watched in horror as the life drained from them. Ike got to his feet and started barking.

Link slipped to the ground, and Aidan’s eyes narrowed to Dwight Creely standing over him. His big body was a shadow, blocking the sun until all Aidan could see was the man and his gun.

“Stand down, soldier,” Aidan put a harsh bite to his voice, praying Creely would respond.

“I didn’t mean to.” Creely sounded like a petulant child. “It wasn’t my fault.”

A sick feeling took hold in Aidan’s gut. His body armor was just out of reach. Why the hell had he taken it off? He needed to keep this fucker talking until Guerilla Squad got here. “I understand that you panicked. But killing Link was murder, pure and simple.”

Dwight shook his head, his lips firming to a mulish pout. “I won’t go down for this. I am not going to fucking prison.”

Aidan’s M-16 was close, but he would have to reach for it. His shoulder ached, but he could do it. The radio squawked, announcing that Guerilla Squadron was five minutes away. It was too far.

“Sorry, O’Malley. You were the only one I would have called my friend. I have to make this look good, or my life is over.”

Aidan grabbed for his gun, but Dwight was faster. Dwight shot, and Aidan felt his hand explode with pain. His fingers. Fuck . Dwight had shot his hand, and now he couldn’t feel his fingers. Dwight shot again, and Aidan pulled his ruined hand in. Blood seemed to be coming from everywhere.

“I’m sorry.” But there was nothing but a brutal will on Dwight Creely’s face as he raised the M-16.

Aidan felt a horrible burning sensation in his stomach as the bullet entered. Aidan clutched his gut and rolled, trying to get away. Then there was another blast, and his whole body went numb. His back. He’d been shot in the back. There was another shot, but all Aidan got was a glimpse of Ike running as that fucker tried to shoot at him.

Aidan went still. It was easy since the lower half of his body no longer seemed to function. Through slitted eyes he watched as Dwight jogged across the road and disappeared into the building where the trouble had started. Aidan had a sense of him returning, but he shut his eyes and kept his breathing as shallow as possible.

Lexi was somewhere out there. He wondered if she was with Lucas. He wondered if anyone would bother to tell her that he had died. The sand beneath his face reminded him he wasn’t home. He wanted to be home. He didn’t want to die in this country.

“I’m here! Please help. They killed my whole squad. I’m the only one left, and I need a medic.” Dwight was yelling.

Ike was barking, but it seemed so far away.

Aidan started to float. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to be home with them. He should never have left. Never.

It didn’t matter. The world went dark, and he dreamed of the love he’d shoved away.

Aidan shook as he came out of the memory. Ike was still barking, just the way he had that day. It had been so real. He’d been there again. Dwight . Fucking Dwight had shot him. Dwight had killed two people that day, one on purpose, and he had nearly taken Aidan’s life. The betrayal of it all made his head spin.

Dwight might not have been cool under fire, but damn he’d been the epitome of grace under pressure after the fact. Aidan had read the reports. Insurgents had taken out the squad in close combat fighting. Several had been taken out by snipers, but one of the insurgents had made it behind the wall. It was all a lie, made up by Dwight to cover his tracks, but no one had been able to refute him.

Dwight had been fast. He must have dragged a body across the street. He’d been quick on his feet. Some of the injuries couldn’t have come from a distance. Dwight had set up a scenario with close-quarter fighting. The squad that saved them had moved quickly, because Aidan had still been alive. Coincidence had helped Dwight out as the team sent to investigate had been attacked, too. The area had been declared hot, and they hadn’t been able to get back in to investigate.