Elle James - Six Minutes To Midnight

“San Antonio, Texas, was my last PCS assignment,” Kinsley said.

“That’s where they train Military Working Dogs, isn’t it?” McGuire asked. “They have a facility at Lackland Air Force Base. Is that where you and Agar received your training?”

She nodded. “I spent the past year in training.”

“T-Mac says this is your first assignment since training.”

Again, Kinsley nodded. “That’s true. Agar was the best in his class. He could find trace amounts of explosives that none of our own detection equipment could pick up.” She patted the dog’s head. “He’s good at what he does. If there are IEDs or land mines, he’ll prove himself tonight.”

As they reached the helicopters, more SEALs gathered. Ammunition was dispensed. Then it came time for them to load into the helicopters.

Kinsley started for one of the choppers away from McGuire and his group.

The navy commander who’d briefed them caught up to her. “You’re riding in the other bird. Stick with T-Mac. He’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” Kinsley insisted.

“I understand,” the commander said. “But the team isn’t used to working with a dog and its handler. It’s for their safety as well as yours.”

Kinsley couldn’t argue with that. Apparently, she was to have a handler. “Yes, sir.”

The commander escorted her back to the other helicopter where McGuire, or T-Mac, as his team nicknamed him, stood, waiting his turn to climb aboard.

“T-Mac,” the commander called out.

The SEAL turned when he saw who was with his superior.

“I have an assignment for you,” Commander Ward said.

“Yes, sir,” T-Mac replied.

“You’re to keep up with Specialist Anderson and Sergeant Agar. Bring them back safely.”

T-Mac’s eyes narrowed. “Sir?”

Kinsley stiffened.

The SEAL didn’t look too excited.

“You heard me,” the commander said. “Take care of them out there. You don’t know what you’ll be up against.”

“Yes, sir.” T-Mac nodded.

When the others in the helicopter chuckled, T-Mac shot a glare their way.

With the odd feeling she wasn’t in on the joke, Kinsley stepped up to the chopper.

“Has Agar been in a helicopter?” T-Mac asked.

Kinsley nodded. “Not only has he been up, he’s been hoisted in and out on a cable multiple times. He’s calm throughout.”

“Good.” T-Mac offered her a hand up.

Ignoring the hand, Kinsley motioned for Agar to go first. Then she stepped up into the chopper and found a seat between the tallest guy and one who was stout with a barrel chest. She settled between them and buckled her safety harness, keeping Agar close at her feet.

“I’m Jake,” said the tall man. “They call me Big Jake.”

Kinsley shook hands with the man. “Nice to meet you, Big Jake.”

“I’m Pitbull.” The barrel-chested guy stuck out his hand. “Here, you’ll need these.” He handed her a headset.

She removed her helmet and settled the headset over her ears. Immediately, she could hear static and the pilot and copilot performing a communications check with the passengers.

She watched and listened as each of the SEALs answered, and she committed their names to memory.

“Diesel.”

“Pitbull.”

“Buck.”

“Big Jake.”

“Harm.”

“T-Mac.”

Her heart skipped several beats when T-Mac spoke. He sat in the seat opposite, his gaze on her. When no one else spoke, he winked and touched his finger to his own microphone.

Kinsley realized she’d forgotten to say her name. With heat rising up in her cheeks, she spoke into the mic. “Anderson and Agar.”

T-Mac grinned.

A moment later, the helicopter lifted off the ground, swung out over the Gulf of Aden and then turned south, back over the Horn of Africa.

The sun had sunk low on the horizon, bathing the land in a bright orange glow.

If they hadn’t been headed into a potentially hostile environment, Kinsley would have enjoyed the view, the sunset and the warm wind blowing in her face. But this was her first real combat assignment. She wasn’t scared, but she was anxious to do well.

She sat back in her seat, forcing herself to be calm. Agar needed her full focus. He sensed her every mood and emotion. He needed to know she was in full control of herself as well as him. They’d trained to save lives by finding dangers lurking beneath the surface or behind walls.

For the duration of the flight, she concentrated on reducing her heart rate, breathing deeply and going over everything she’d learned in the intensive training she’d been through with Agar. Dogs weren’t deployed unless they were ready. And dog handlers didn’t last long in training if they weren’t capable, consistent and calm. She’d excelled along with Agar.

All of her training had been for more than inspecting vehicles entering through the post gates.

Agar nudged her foot with his nose and looked up at her.

Kinsley rubbed the dog’s snout and scratched him behind his ears.

He laid his head on her lap, as if sensing her unrest.

When Kinsley glanced up again, it was to stare across the darkening fuselage at the SEAL seated across from her. Though she resented feeling like she had to be babysat, she was glad she had someone with more combat experience watching her back.

All too soon, the helicopter touched down. The second one landed beside it.

Kinsley removed the helicopter headset, slipped her helmet on and latched the buckle beneath her chin. She exited the aircraft and stood to the side with Agar while all twelve SEALs alighted, checked their gear and waited for the signal to move out.

T-Mac approached her and handed her a small electronic device. “You’ll need these earpieces to hear the team as we move through the village. You’ll have to keep them up-to-date while they’re looking for our traitor.”

Kinsley fitted the device in her ear and spoke. “Testing.”

Big Jake took charge, giving directions, performing one last communication check on their radio headsets.

After everyone checked in, Big Jake gathered them in a circle. “The village should be another four clicks to the east. We need to get in, clear the rubble of any enemy combatants and wait for the handoff. Any questions?”

Big Jake nodded toward Kinsley. “Take it, dog soldier.”

Kinsley’s heartbeat quickened. This was it. She and Agar had a job to do, lives to save and explosives to find.

She tugged on Agar’s lead, sending him in the direction Big Jake indicated. She allowed the dog to run out at the extent of the retractable lead and walked behind him. She carried her rifle in her right hand, the lead in her left.

T-Mac fell in step beside her, his specialized M4A1 at the ready position.

Darkness had settled over the landscape with a blanket of stars lighting their way.

Agar zigzagged back and forth in front of her, his nose to the ground, tail wagging, moving swiftly enough that Kinsley had to hustle to keep up.

One kilometer passed without incident. Then two. As they neared their target, Kinsley slowed Agar, encouraging him to take his time. The team had chosen to approach the abandoned village from the west, establish a defensive position and wait for the party to start. The handoff was supposed to take place at midnight. That gave them a few hours to get in place and hunker down.

From what some of her more experienced counterparts had reported, sometimes it took hours to navigate a quarter-mile stretch. If their adversary considered the location to be worth the effort to defend or sabotage, they could have rigged it with land mines or trip wires hooked to detonators.

Glad for T-Mac’s protection, she led the SEALs toward the crumbled buildings at the edge of the little village.