Christmas with Hope Read online



  Christmas with Hope

  By

  Anne Patrick

  A companion piece for the Wounded Heroes series

 

  Copyright © 2011 by Anne Patrick

  ISBN 10: 1-61252-106-1

  ISBN 13: 978-161252-106-0

  Published in the United States of America

  Content Editors: Shawna Williams & Sydney Morgan

  Cover Artist: SelfPubBookCovers.com/nicolebcreative

  Licensing Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with other people, please purchase an additional copy for each person. All rights are reserved and it is illegal to copy, scan, or in any way mechanically or digitally reproduce this book for resale or sharing except for small passages for reviews and related articles. Requests for other uses should be directed to the author or publisher for written permission.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Christmas with Hope is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author‘s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgement

  This series is dedicated to all the brave men and women in our military, emergency services, and law enforcement agencies. Words cannot express my gratitude for your sacrifice and dedication to our country.

  While researching for this series I enlisted the help of several members of our military and law enforcement agencies. I'd especially like to thank Neil Gussman and Tanya Rogers for their patience in answering all of my questions. I couldn't have embarked on this journey without your help.

  I'd also like to thank all my wonderful readers. I appreciate each and every one of you!

  Chapter One

  A bullet ricocheted off the concrete wall, narrowly missing Nick Cunningham's head. Kneeling next to the door, he returned several rounds from his M4. Mortars and small-arms fire exploded throughout the neighborhood. It sounded like the Fourth of July. He searched the rooftop of the building across the road, where the insurgents lay well hidden, but saw nothing.

  The mission was simple. Locate and eliminate a cell of insurgents embedded in the small village in western Iraq. But nothing was ever that simple in this unconventional war. As it turned out, the reliable tip that put this mission in motion appeared to be just a ruse to ambush Nick's unit.

  Thankfully, only one of his men was injured in the initial firefight.

  He glanced over at Doc. The young medic was changing the bandage on their fallen comrade. Lucas' gunshot wound wasn't serious, but if they didn't get him to a hospital soon they could lose him.

  Another mortar exploded just outside the door, showering Nick with plaster and dirt. The abandoned school had offered the perfect refuge but, after four hours of continuous hits, the roof and part of the front wall were close to collapsing on top of them.

  "Hey, Gunner," Nick yelled into his head mike. "You got that radio fixed yet?" He'd been at it over an hour and Nick was losing patience.

  Several seconds passed before the soldier answered, "I'm working on it."

  Nick glanced down the dirt road to their bombed Humvee, where Gunner and Mac were attempting to fix the radio. They were still receiving fire. Nick had to give them some reinforcement if they had any chance of radioing for help. "Crocket, come in here and keep the doc company. I'm gonna go see if I can't speed things up a bit."

  "Hey, Lieutenant. You may want to hang back," his radio crackled. "Sounds like we have company."

  Nick listened. He could barely hear the sound of chopper blades over the gunfire. "Miller, shoot a flare on top of that roof so they'll know our location."

  Within seconds of the flare's landing, four blasts demolished the building across the road. The percussion knocked Nick off his feet. Smoke billowed into the school. An eerie silence surrounded them.

  Nick held his breath and ran to the other side of the room where Doc, Lucas, and Crocket were. Two of his other teammates joined him. Nick motioned to the wounded soldier. "Miller, help Doc. Snowman, you follow me. Crocket, cover our backs." Nick took the lead, his M4 positioned in front of him.

  A late afternoon sun beat down on them as Nick led the way toward their Humvee. He heard the sound of chopper blades and saw the two Black Hawks coming from the east. "Gunner, try and signal them for a pick-up. We're coming toward you."

  "Yes, Sir."

  A dog barked from one of the nearby houses. Nick motioned for his teammates to stop. He scanned the area quickly. The settling smoke from the burning buildings made it difficult to see.

  They were within a few yards of the Humvee when an RPG launched from a nearby grove of trees. The helicopters maneuvered out of the way, then circled around and took out the small truck before its occupants could launch another. More gunfire erupted from a nearby building. Nick motioned for his group to take cover behind the Humvee. He squatted near the front end, searching the windows for the insurgents. He spotted one ready to take aim at the birds and fired off a half dozen rounds. Silence followed.

  The Black Hawks flew over once more before hovering over the empty field behind them. Nick waited until one was almost on the ground before signaling to his men to evacuate. He stood guard while Snowman rigged the Humvee with explosives, then they ran to the first chopper.

  The choppers were barely off the ground when the insurgents started firing on them again. The door gunner next to Nick returned fire as the bird tilted left and flew off. Nick looked back just as the Humvee exploded.

  *****

  Less than an hour later, they were back on the ground. Nick helped Doc remove their injured teammate. They were met by two medics with a gurney. In the background, he heard the Black Hawks shutting down. Seconds later the cockpit door opened, and one of the pilots exited.

  Nick walked over to him. "We're going to need a lift back to our forward base."

  "Not until we're refueled and re-armed," said a female voice from inside the Black Hawk. No sooner had she spoken, a HEMMT 2500-gallon fueling vehicle drove toward the aircrafts.

  Nick stepped to the door just as the pilot slid back her helmet's visor. "We have another mission to fly before we drop you off, and I hate running out of fuel and ammo. It really ruins a person's day." She tossed him a smile as beautiful as her amber eyes.

  "That was some maneuvering you did back there." He'd flown in a lot of Black Hawks during his career, and her performance was as good as, if not better than, any of those pilots. It was obvious she'd had her wings for quite some time.

  "Thanks." She shifted her eyes to the panel of gauges between the seats.

  He leaned inside the cockpit, offering his hand. "I'm First Lieutenant Nick Cunningham, Third Battalion, Seventy-Fifth Ranger Regiment."

  "You say that as if it's supposed to impress us," the co-pilot said from behind.

  "Captain Hope Erickson, Twelfth Combat Aviation Brigade." She shook Nick's hand. "Don't mind him. He's a little cranky 'cause he hasn't had his turkey and dressing yet."

  Nick had almost forgotten it was Thanksgiving. His fourth spent in a war zone. He thought briefly of his family back home. His parents, brother, and sisters were probably sitting around the fireplace now planning tomorrow's festivities. After a light meal of pizza or sandwiches, his mom and sisters would spend the rest of the evening baking in the kitchen.

  "How bad is your guy hit?" Captain Erickson asked.

  "Not too bad. He's lost a lot of blood, but he'll make it. How'd you know to pick us up?"

  "When your commander could
n't raise you on the radio he sent out an alert. We were in the neighborhood."

  He'd never been thankful for a firefight before, but he was today. "You know I once knew a Hope in grade school, back in Raleigh."

  She grinned. "Was she overweight with braces?"

  Oh No! "Please tell me you don't remember me." Out of all the women in the world, she would have to be the one, who as a child, he and his buddies had teased on a daily basis.

  "I see your taste in friends has improved."

  Aw man, she did remember. "So have my manners," he answered with regret. "I'm glad you didn't know who you were bailing out back there." If she had, she probably would've been tempted to leave him and his unit in the hands of the insurgents. "So is this your forward operating base?"

  "No. Camp Adder."

  "You're kidding?" Camp Adder, located on Tallil Air Base in south-central Iraq, was a main resupply point. "My unit's temporarily stationed there."

  His day had just gotten a whole lot better.

  She opened her mouth to speak, and the co-pilot interrupted. "I hate to break up this charming reunion, but we need to get going."

  "Better get your men inside," she told Nick.

  Within minutes, the twin turbojet engines were screaming, and the huge rotor blades started to turn. Nick motioned for his guys, and they all climbed aboard. No sooner had he settled into his seat, the Black Hawk lifted slowly upward, then twisting to the right it banked up into the air, straightened out, and shot into the distance.

  Facing the cockpit, Nick could barely see the captain as she piloted the craft like a seasoned veteran. He hoped once they reached camp he'd have the chance to talk to her some more, fearing if he didn't he may never get the chance to apologize for his wayward youth. He had often thought of her through the years and always wondered if her sudden disappearance after the fifth grade had somehow been connected to all the abuse he and his friends dished out.

  An hour later, the Black Hawks landed at an airfield in a familiar province west of the Iranian border. Nick knew the area because he was stationed there early into the war. A lot of reconnaissance missions flew out of Camp Delta. Last he heard, the First Armored Division was operating out of here, and it was home to unmanned aerial surveillance vehicles, otherwise known as UAV's. These integrated unit assets provided timely, actionable intelligence to coalition forces throughout the operation theater.

  An armored vehicle met his aircraft. Two soldiers wielding M4 rifles stepped out. The driver glanced around briefly before opening the door directly behind his. The gunner seated next to Nick slid the cabin door open and the two soldiers escorted an Iraqi military officer toward them. Nick recognized the man's insignia as the rank belonging to a lieutenant general, who usually served as direct assistant to the head of Joint Chiefs of Staff in the Iraqi military.

  Once inside, the gunner slid the door shut. Nick glanced to the cockpit just as an Apache helicopter flew over. He didn't have to look to know there was at least one more. He'd seen these formations before. Whoever this guy was, he was precious cargo. Nick got the feeling his unit was in more danger now than before they were rescued.

  The sun had barely dipped below the horizon when Camp Adder came into view. Twelve-foot high concrete barriers surrounded the almost thirty square mile area; groups of tents and buildings, along with Containerized Housing Units sat inside its perimeters.

  Captain Erickson sat the bird down with ease as the Apaches disappeared from sight. Moments later, a Humvee arrived for their guest. Nick watched out the gunner's window as the Iraqi officer was ushered to the vehicle. He and his men then exited the craft, followed by the two gunners and co-pilot. Nick hung back, hoping to talk to the Captain.

  The push crew arrived and began removing the guns and tying down the aircraft.

  "Are you lost? Do you need directions?" the co-pilot asked Nick.

  Before Nick could answer, Captain Erickson came around the front of the chopper. She was much taller than he expected, at least five-eight. Her helmet was tucked under one arm, against her shoulder holster, and she carried her flight bag in her other hand. A caramel colored ponytail barely stuck out of the back of her jumpsuit. "Stop being so rude, Saunders."

  The co-pilot grinned and shook his head before walking off.

  "I suppose I deserve it after the way I treated you as a kid."

  "That's all water under the bridge, Lieutenant."

  "Good, then maybe you'll let me buy you a latte or something." Nick stepped back as a member of the push crew swept in and took her helmet. "You know, for saving our hides today."

  "Just doing my job. Besides, I need to help with post-flight then I have a debriefing at eighteen hundred."

  His debriefing would be over by then. "How about dinner? You've gotta eat."

  "I usually eat with my crew. But thank you. It was very nice seeing you again."

  "So that's it... you're blowing me off just like that," he said with a smile. "You're not even going to give me a chance to make up for the way I treated you in school."

  "You think buying me dinner or a latte is going to do that?" She moved to one side as two men from the push crew hurried past her.

  "Guess not, but it's a start. So what do you say?"

  "No thank you. I really don't have a lot of free time on my hands, and I don't care to spend it talking about something that's long forgotten."

  Nick had a hunch her grace was only a ruse to get rid of him. "All right. Well, maybe I'll see you around on the base."

  "Stay safe, Lieutenant."

  "Yeah, you too."

  *****

  "Overweight and braces, huh?"

  Hope smiled at her co-pilot, Chief Warrant Officer Brody Saunders. "Shut up and get busy. You're not the only one around here who's hungry."

  "The guy did seem sincere. And a little romance in your life wouldn't kill you."

  Hooking up with the likes of Nick Cunningham might. She may have changed dramatically since the fifth grade, but she doubted he had. The fact that a mere smile from the dark-haired, blue-eyed, hunk could still send her pulse into overdrive was a clear indication she needed to keep her distance from him at all costs.

  "The Captain's right in playing it safe," his crew chief said. "Military romances never work out. Look at you. You've gone through more girlfriends in two tours of Iraq than most men do in a lifetime."

  "Okay, so I'm a poor example." Brody smiled at Hope. "But there are a few that have survived the war. Look at your roommate, the fact she could find a guy to put up with her is a miracle in itself."

  Hope was tempted to tell him that was no longer the case. Though he pretended not to like Kylie, Hope believed otherwise. Almost every conversation they had included Kylie's name at some point.

  "Speak of the devil," Brody said.

  Hope glanced over her shoulder. Kylie walked toward them grinning. "Guess who gets to spend Christmas in Kuwait?"

  "You ratfink."

  "Don't be sore because you're coming with me."

  "Are you serious? How'd you manage that?"

  "They were looking for volunteers for a Christmas Day mission and I signed us up."

  "You did what?" Brody folded his arms, shifting his gaze between them. "It's bad enough we had to fly today but--"

  "Oh, calm down," Kylie said, "It's not like you had any plans."

  "I could have."

  "I mean other than playing video games in your CHU by yourself."

  Hope chuckled at the two. She wondered if either of them would ever admit they liked one another. "So what kind of mission are we talking about?"

  "Don't know the details yet. All I know is they need two Black Hawks."

  Hope and Kylie both flew a wide array of missions, including the tactical transport of troops, supply drops, and transporting VIPs. Seldom did they know the details of their mission until their pre-flight briefing. "For Christmas in Kuwait, I don't care what we have to do."

  Chapter Two

  "Did you get a
look at our passenger?" Jim Bison, also known as Snowman, asked as Nick searched for empty seats in the cafeteria. "How many lieutenant generals have you seen ferried around Iraq like that?"

  None that Nick could remember. "I'm just glad we made it back to base in one piece. With that kind of security, you know he has people gunning for him."

  "Yeah, I was beginning to wonder if we weren't safer back at that school. Wonder who he is, and why our government is going to such lengths to protect him."

  "Al Qaeda informant probably. Who knows?" Nick spotted a half-empty table in the corner. "There's a couple over there."

  "So, are you hooking up with the lovely captain later?"

  "Nah, she shot me down."

  Jim chuckled. "You're losing your touch, man. What's it been, six months since your last date?"

  "Somewhere in that neighborhood. But unlike you, I'm looking for a relationship longer than a weekend... with someone who actually has ambitions." He bit into his apple, savoring its sweetness. After three days of MRE's, it tasted like heaven.

  "You're in the middle of a war zone, buddy. The only ambition most people have around is to not go home in a body bag."

  Still, he could dream of finding a woman who loved the army as much as he did and who wanted the same things out of life. He thought of Hope. It took a dedicated individual to be a Black Hawk pilot. Not only did a person have to be an officer, which meant ROTC, West Point, or four years of college and OTS, they had to score in the top one percent of the candidates. And be of the best physically, mentally, and emotionally just to make the first cut. That's six years of a person's life with only one goal in mind.

  A firm believer that God placed people in our lives for a purpose, Nick was convinced he should continue his pursuit of the elusive pilot. And not only to apologize for his behavior when he was younger. He sensed an attraction there long before he knew who she was.

  "You gonna eat your peas?"

  Nick absentmindedly slid his tray toward his friend. "Mind if I borrow your bike?"