I'll Be Waiting (The Vault Book 2) Read online




  I'll Be Waiting

  A. M. Hargrove

  I'LL BE WAITING

  A Vault Novella

  * * *

  Copyright © 2018 by A.M. Hargrove

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at [email protected].

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.

  * * *

  Cover by Dana Leah

  Photo by Shutterstock

  Editing by Gray Ink

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Acknowledgements

  About A.M. Hargrove

  Stalk Annie

  Sneak Peek From Craving Midnight

  Chapter One—Midnight

  Chapter Two—Harrison

  Chapter Three—Harrison

  Chapter Four—Midnight

  Chapter Five—Harrison

  Chapter Six—Midnight

  Chapter Seven—Harrison

  Chapter Eight—Midnight

  Chapter Nine—Harrison

  Chapter Ten—Midnight

  Chapter Eleven—Harrison

  Chapter Twelve—Midnight

  Chapter One

  Lee

  * * *

  The explosion hit and the first thing I noticed wasn’t the sound. It was the absence of it. The blast exposure had caused a temporary hearing loss, only I wasn’t cognizant of that at the time. Disorientation and confusion tossed me into a vortex of the unknown. I blinked once, twice, but nothing cleared my vision. Dizziness prevailed until I was aware that someone was dragging me by the strap of my vest. A face appeared in front of me with lips moving, but confusion reigned. Squinting, I thought maybe I could lip read, but words jammed in my throat like wooden blocks. It wasn’t that I couldn’t speak—I couldn’t breathe. With stark clarity, I knew I was facing my own death.

  Dying is a strange thing. Instead of panicking, a sense of calm cocooned me. I was lying on a bed of fluffy down, embraced in the utmost comfort. All the months in the desert sand and heat were wiped away with the snap of my fingers and were replaced by joy and peace. From there I was transported to a crystal clear pool, somewhere near a tumbling waterfall. The aqua water was serenity to my senses as the water was nature’s own music. In the blink of an eye, I journeyed to a distant mountaintop with a view unlike any other. I was on top of the world able to see for miles and miles. Until …

  Pain, unbelievable pain, sank its ruthless claws into me and viciously tore me away from my precious view tossing me straight into Hell. Muffled sound coming from a distance assaulted my ears. My vision cleared somewhat affording me a view of the chaos surrounding me. A medic shouted, “She’s coming around. I think she’s with us.” Where had I been? What happened? Focus, I needed to focus. Easy to say, difficult to do with the searing pain coming from my lower extremities. Not to mention, my hearing and sight made me believe I was lying in a cave somewhere.

  Lifting my head, I only made it an inch or so before a hand gently pushed it back down.

  “Easy there, soldier. You’re not going anywhere just yet.” Then an oxygen mask was placed over my mouth and I was lifted onto a stretcher. The blue sky above me tilted as my makeshift bed was carried to its next destination. Whatever happened must’ve been serious enough to warrant a med-evac because I was loaded into a helo. Moments later, the horizon dipped as we headed to a destination unknown and I drifted off.

  The blank slate of my mind didn’t block out the annoying bleep of the alarm clock that some forgetful person wouldn’t shut off. If only I had the strength, I would get off my ass and turn the stupid thing off. Or better yet, pulverize it with a hammer. Who would dare to disturb my perfect sleep? When I found out, I was going to kill the motherfucker.

  Bleep … bleep … bleep … bleep.

  All right already. Stop that noise! Throwing the blankets off, I went to get out of bed and … what the hell! Where was I? There were people all over the place, lined up in hospital beds. Curtains were half drawn so it was hard to see. But I could hear them moaning. Christ, could I hear the moaning.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” a friendly but unfamiliar voice said.

  I shifted to see who it was. A doctor stood next to the bed, smiling. “How do you feel?”

  My brows drew together because I wasn’t quite sure where to begin.

  “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Do you remember anything at all?”

  My head slowly swiveled from side to side.

  “I see. Well, I’m Dr. Keith Sanchez. Do you know where you are?

  “In bed?” I answered lamely.

  “Well, that, but you’re at Bagram. You do remember being in Afghanistan, right?”

  Bagram Air Base. Afghanistan. Bam! Images dropped into place as the puzzle pieces fit perfectly together in my mind.

  “I can see things are coming together for you. Do you remember what happened yesterday?”

  Yesterday?

  “I … I don’t think …” but then it all hit me. The IED. We were patrolling the streets of a village near Kandahar. The intel revealed there may be a terror cell operating nearby and that we should be on high alert. As we were walking I spotted an object, a harmless Coke can laying in the street, next to the curb. Normally, it wouldn’t have caught my eye, but it was the way the can was cocked up against the curb with a straw sticking out of the top that grabbed my attention. There was something about it that looked off.

  Four of us walked in pairs and we were trained to trust our instincts. That day, I trusted mine. I yelled out as I grabbed my fellow soldier’s arm, jerking him behind me with as much force as my body contained. That’s when all hell broke loose. Using my body as a shield, I threw myself over him as the fire lit up the street.

  “Jared? The others?” I asked.

  The doctor smiled. “They’re all fine. Only minor lacerations, thanks to you.”

  “It was the Coke can,” I muttered.

  “Yes, so they said.”

  “So how long will I be here?”

  “We’re making sure you’re stabilized and then you’ll be transferred to Ramstein.”

  “Ramstein? Germany?”

  “Yes. Your injuries are greater than what we can treat here in the mobile unit.”

  My voice hitched as I asked, “And what exactly are my … injuries.”

  His kind brown eyes softened with what, precisely? Pity? Sympathy? This couldn’t be good. The V tha
t formed between his brows further confirmed my suspicions.

  “Corporal Marston, that IED did a whole lot of damage to you and you’re very lucky to be alive. But I’m sorry to inform you that you lost your left leg below the knee. Your right leg is also in pretty bad shape. We need to make some repairs because the bone is damaged, but we don’t have the capabilities to do it here. Our imaging isn’t state of the art either so it’s best if we get you to Ramstein ASAP.”

  My hand automatically reached for my leg but I could only get as far as my knee. So I tried to sit up, but a surge of dizziness had me doing the fish flop.

  “Take it easy. It hasn’t been that long since you came out of anesthesia.”

  “I … I don’t get it. My calf and ankle hurt. How can that be if my leg is gone?” I wasn’t prepared to deal with this news.

  “Phantom pain. You’ve heard of it, I’m sure.”

  “But this is severe.”

  “Yeah, it can be. No one really knows the cause, but it appears that your brain is getting mixed signals from your body and it manifests itself in the form of pain.”

  Everything he said made my situation sound more than terrible. Was this my career ender? I was planning on being in the marines for the long term. Now what the hell was I going to do?

  Chapter Two

  Rusty

  * * *

  The screams woke me up, but this time they weren’t a result of my recurring nightmare. I flew to my feet and jogged to the door.

  “What’s up?”

  My teammate on night duty during this mission answered, “Some disturbance outside. We’re checking it out.”

  “How’s the target?”

  “We’re still waiting to hear,” he answered.

  “Fuck.”

  “My words exactly.”

  “Any news from the command center?” I asked.

  “Nothing. If we don’t hear anything in the next couple of hours, we’re gonna have to move. She won’t last much longer and as it is, we have to get through the border with her in this state. It’s not gonna be smooth.”

  “We’ll have to storm the building.”

  “Yeah, that’s the plan as of right now. Tonight. We’re trying to find a doctor to help us.”

  I scratched my head. “Our supplies can’t do the trick, huh?”

  “Not with what we can tell. Her injuries are too severe.”

  One of the guys returned with a report of what was happening. “They just killed a woman for information on where we’re hiding. We can’t stay here much longer.”

  “Okay. Tonight, at dark. We stick to the plan,” our commander, Thompson, said.

  “What about the doctor?”

  “While you were napping, we sent out a couple of guys to work on that. They should be back soon.”

  And they were, with a physician in tow, who was sympathetic to our cause. He had a vehicle which would transport us to the border. If all this would work, we could make it out safely tonight.

  “You do know you could die doing this?” I asked the physician.

  “I risk death every day at the hands of the extremists, so what does this matter?”

  Thompson walked over to us and said, “You could come with us. Your ticket to freedom.”

  He shook his head. “I have a family. They would kill them all.”

  My fellow soldiers and I shared a glance. This was something we were familiar with, as the extremists often did this to the sympathizers.

  “They will probably kill you anyway. Once they figure out who aided us in our escape, they’ll also kill your family,” I said.

  “My family is already on their way out of the country, and I will be joining them.”

  “Where will you go? Let us help you,” I insisted.

  “Don’t worry about me. We will be protected.”

  It wasn’t so much what he said, but the way he said it that made me leery. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. We’d been trained to pick on these kinds of nuances. And why was his family already on the move? Was he really going to help us or lead us into another ambush? I pulled my commander aside.

  “How much do you trust this guy?”

  “Why?”

  “Something about what he said makes me itchy. Not only that, the dude is shifty as hell.”

  “Aw, shit, Garrett. I need more than that.” His eyes drilled into mine, so I explained my intuition about his family. It was just too convenient for him to show up like that. After giving it some thought, he radioed Wilson. “Base to R1, how did you vet our healer?”

  “R1 to base, local contacts. Over.”

  “R1, were they trusted, over?”

  “Base, in the past, over.”

  “R1, return to base. Over.”

  “Copy that, base. Over.”

  A few minutes later, Wilson showed up. Thompson questioned him, and we then decided our good doctor couldn’t be trusted. But at this stage in the game, we had no other choice but to use his skills, not to mention, he provided the wheels. We would change the route, and he would accompany us across the border.

  The sun sank, and we waited impatiently. One of us was to remain with the doctor while the rest of the team would surround the building where the two hostages were held. We’d drop the guards, do what we were trained to do, and extract our targets. With precision, we should be out of the country within hours.

  “Garrett, you got our link to the other route established?”

  “Done,” I said.

  “You make sure Wilson has a clear path out of here when we leave. He’ll be staying behind with Dr. Traitor. The good doctor won’t know about the change of plans until we veer off the main road.”

  “Yes, sir.” I went to talk to Wilson. Then we waited. The thing about being on these missions was you had to find the patience to get you through the waiting game. If you allowed it, it would destroy you. And that could ruin the mission.

  When our time was up, Thompson made his required speech. “Knights, as members of Gold Squadron, it’s my duty to remind you that this is a no-fail mission and as so, it is unrecognized by the US government. Should you be captured, there will be no rescue. This is a full assault mission. Spare no one but your team, the targets, and yourselves.”

  Then we filed out. The building was only a couple of blocks away. As we left, we were reminded of our radio silence.

  We surrounded the building and quietly took out the guards. It was a simple matter really. What wasn’t simple was how the damn entrance was wired when we blasted it for entry. We didn’t expect it to light up the way it did. It notified the entire fucking city and nearly took us out with it. Taking out the occupants wasn’t an issue, nor was grabbing the two hostages, although the woman was in bad shape like we expected. Getting out of town was going to be an issue because every damn human within a mile had heard the explosions go off.

  We spared not one second. The wounded woman would have to wait for any kind of medical attention because our radio silence was broken.

  Thompson called to Wilson, “Rovers to base, evac needed now.”

  “Copy that. ETA in five.”

  “Rover to base. Make it two.”

  “Copy that.”

  We worked with expert efficiency and Thompson radioed our location to Wilson. We heard the shouts coming toward us from a distance.

  “I’m not sure if we have time for Wilson to get here.”

  “Rover to base.”

  “Base is approaching.”

  “We’re coming toward you. The crowds are restless.”

  “Copy that.”

  About then, the van pulled up and we loaded in. Now it was round two. The doctor was in the back to assist the patient. I was in the passenger seat, on the comm link via satellite.

  “Rover to command. Set our course,” I said.

  “Rover you’re clear, head straight for four blocks but then you’ve got issues.”

  “Command, give us the turn when needed.”

  “Copy that.�


  With all the chatter in the car, I was afraid I’d miss something, so I yelled over my shoulder for everyone to stay quiet. About that time, the radio crackled to life again.

  “Rover, you’re gonna head east at the next street. Follow that until you head out of town.”

  “Copy that.” I checked my map to see where it would take us, and it looked like we’d be headed in the wrong direction.

  “Command,” I said. “You sure about that?”

  “It’s the only way. They have every other route blocked. We’re gonna circle around the masses and then get you back on track.”

  “Copy that.” I turned to Wilson. “You heard that. Let’s do it.”

  “Got it.”

  Somehow, we made it to the border. It took forever and when we got there, our friendly doctor ranted about how he wanted out of the van.

  “No can do, buddy,” Thompson said. “After we hitch a ride on the winged bird, you can either drive back or walk, but not until then. Unless you want to tell us how you knew about us.”

  He looked like he was about to shit himself.

  “Yeah, we figured your ass out.”

  His mouth slammed shut and we didn’t hear another word out of him. The good thing was, he did our hostage right. Without his help, she may not have made it. He had supplies in the van that we didn’t.

  A few minutes later, our bird arrived to carry us to Bagram. A medic hopped out, and we carried the wounded asset on board, and then we loaded up. Luckily, the woman was going to make it.