Andrew Britton Bundle by Andrew Britton Page A

cost him more than one good relationship over the years. It had never bothered him much before, but Katie meant more to him than the rest of them combined, and his chest tightened when he suddenly realized that he might be losing her. When she finally filled the silence, he was surprised by the intensity of the relief that he felt.
    â€œLook, I know what you do is important,” she said in a small voice. “I would never say otherwise. I don’t try to make you talk about it—that can be separate from us. I’m not sure if I can deal with that yet, but I’m willing to try.”
    She looked up at him hopefully. “That’s the important thing, right? That we’re both here and willing. I just want to know where I stand in this thing we have going. Where we stand.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking.” A slight hesitation, the following words no less meaningful for it. “I don’t think you know how important you are to me, Katie…In fact, I’m sure of it.”
    She desperately tried to hold on to her anger, but it was already slipping away. A small smile spread over her face. “Do you mean that?”
    He held out his hand. She walked over to him, and they hugged gently at first, Kealey finding her lips with his. Then he pulled her closer, and suddenly they were holding each other tighter than was necessary, for reasons neither could explain. Ryan speaking quietly into her ear, “You’re all I need, Katie. You and me, in this place, is all I could ever ask for.”
    With her eyes squeezed tightly shut, arms wrapped around him, Katie wondered how she could have been so angry in the first place. She knew what he was trying to say, and for some reason it didn’t matter that he couldn’t get the words out.
    â€œI love you, too,” she whispered.
    About 28 kilometers south of Jableh on the Syrian coast, a casual observer would have noticed many things about the scenic beauty of the surrounding landscape. He would have likely described the orange sun high in the dying light of day, the fiery red sky contrasting sharply with the sparkling water of the Mediterranean. The gently sloping hills leading down to the water’s edge would have been mentioned, as would the unpaved road slicing its way through the heavily wooded contours of the land. A description might well have been provided of the only building visible for many kilometers, a low-slung villa with whitewashed walls and a roof of Spanish tile that seemed to burn in the sunset. The observer would not, however, have been able to detect any sign of human life in the picturesque scene.
    Beneath a heavy canopy of towering pine trees interspersed with the occasional oak, a figure lay perfectly still in the shade and the dirt. Captain Ryan Kealey listened attentively to the environment around him, waiting patiently for communication from the other members of his ODA over an encrypted radio. Glancing to his rear, he was pleased to see no sign of the five other soldiers.
    â€œSapper Six, Gold One, over.”
    Kealey lifted his Motorola radio and spoke quietly, careful to avoid the staccato sounds of a whisper. “Sapper Six, give me your sit rep, Gold One.”
    â€œIn position, no targets visible at this time. I’ve got eyes on Blue Two on my left, over.”
    â€œKeep me updated, Gold One. Six, out.”
    Without looking back, Ryan lifted his right hand in the air and circled with his index finger, signaling the others to rally at his location. Within thirty seconds, he was surrounded by his team members. “Okay, guys, how we doing?” he asked in a low voice.
    â€œGood to go, sir.” The speaker was the newest member of the team, Staff Sergeant Donald Bryant.
    Kealey looked into the youthful, eager face and saw himself just four years earlier. He was grateful that this soldier’s first combat experience would be a