Prologue

Merlin

 

The sound of the minister’s droning voice becomes background noise as my mind drifts back to the moment that changed everything. The reason we’re now sitting here, listening to a cleric waffle on about irrelevant crap when we’re heartbroken over the loss of an amazing, vibrant, larger-than-life man.

My mind gets caught up in memories of the worst day of my life — the day Maverick died. The events leading up to his demise play out like a movie in my head.

“Are you able to stand, sir?” Wolf asks.

“Negative, sailor. Circulation’s pretty sluggish.”

Wolf and I get to work chafing circulation and feeling back into the man’s arms and legs, and when he’s finally ready, we help him to his feet. You’d have to be blind not to see that the act of getting upright causes Commander Jones an enormous amount of pain. But he doesn’t make so much as a murmur.

Without warning, Armatrout’s one henchman – who’d been standing quietly to one side – decides to make his play, attempting to dive tackle the commander. I’m assuming Armatrout decided to use it as a distraction as he erupts into action, ramming a vicious elbow into Digit’s gut, just below his vest.

Clearly not expecting it, Digit’s grip slips for a moment, and my gut clenches as his gun clatters to the floor, skittering toward the door. The fucker uses it to his advantage, breaking free of Digit’s grasp. A scuffle ensues as Digit and Scooter go to apprehend the two men again, while Wolf and I continue to support the commander between us.

A shout of warning goes up as Armatrout throws himself to the floor, reaching for the weapon Maverick had kicked out of the way. I see Armatrout raise the weapon, momentarily unsure who his target will be.

Then I see him bring the weapon to bear and, following his aim, realize the commander is his intended victim. The fucker knows if he takes Commander Jones out, it’ll deliver a devastating blow to Knight’s lady.

I hear the weapon discharge, loud in the underground space, and watch in horror as Maverick throws himself in the bullet’s path, using his body to shield Commander Jones. I see his body jerk, and he drops to the floor like a stone.

For long moments Wolf and I continue to support the commander as my brain reels, trying to process what I’ve just witnessed. Everyone else focuses on Armatrout and his two men. My focus is solely on Maverick.

Nodding at Wolf, we lower our charge back onto the chair before rushing to where my teammate and friend is lying — far too still for my liking. My gut clenches, hard, when I spot the ever-growing pool of blood under his neck as he continues to lie unmoving on the cold concrete floor.

He’s clasping his neck, and bright red blood spurts out rhythmically between his fingers, despite his best efforts. Fuck. It looks like Armatrout’s hit an artery. Engaging my comms, I call for a medic, my heart pounding like a jackhammer.

“Hang in there, Mav. Help’s on the way, brother,” I hear Digit say, his voice breaking at the end.

Maverick turns glassy eyes to Digit. “Not gonna make – it. Need you – to …” A cough wracks his frame, and I can see blood in the spittle that lands on his chin. “Tell Sh – Sheri I lo – love her infinitely — ‘n I’m so – sorry I di – didn’t make it – home.”

“No, damn it, Mav. Hang in there, brother. I need you to hang on a little longer. For Sheri and the boys. For me. Please …” Digit’s words stumble to a stop as Maverick’s eyes roll back in his head, and the life drains from his body on a quiet exhale.

My brain refuses to comprehend what’s just happened. I stare blindly at the man who’s been a part of my life for years. He was more than just a teammate — he was my best friend, my brother-in-arms. More than that, he was a son, a husband, a father, a brother. A man who loved and cherished.

Watching Digit struggle to assimilate what’s just happened, I scramble to get my own brain to re-engage, because as broken as I am over losing Mav, shit still needs to get done, and my team is counting on me to get them through this and out safely on the other side.

Knight lays a hand on Digit’s shoulder. “Digit, you need to let Ace and Bear take care of Maverick now. You need to let his hand go, my friend.”

“It’s too late. He’s gone.” It’s painful to hear the words.

“I know, buddy. But we need to take care of him so that we can take him home.”

“Yeah,” is all he says.

Knight helps Digit to his feet, and I go on high alert as he turns his head, his eyes tracking. The only person he’d be seeking out would be Armatrout, and that means nothing good for either man. I know that bad place he’s gone to — the one where he’s ready to throw the rule book out and damn the consequences.

It’s only when his body locks and I follow his gaze that I see Armatrout lying on his back, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling, a gaping hole in the middle of his forehead. And the only single regret that flashes through me is that I’m not the one who got to pull the trigger that ended his depraved life.

Ready to get the fuck outta Dodge, I turn to find Knight whispering something to Digit. Figuring I’d give them a minute, I’m about to speak when our comms engage.

“Compound’s secured, Knight. What are our orders?” Dutch asks.

“We’ll organize for the choppers to come get us so we can get the hell off this godforsaken mountaintop and home to our families,” Knight replies.

“Everything okay there, Boss Man? You sound a bit off,” Dutch says.

“I’ll bring you up to speed later,” Knight responds.

“Understood,” is all Dutch replies.

“Digit, call for our transport home,” Knight requests quietly.

It takes the man a moment to respond, and I figure it’s because, like me and my team, he’s watching Kansas zip the body bag closed with care, pain ravaging his face. Moving to assist, Kansas and I gently lift the bag in readiness to carry him out.

“On it,” Digit replies.

Digging the satellite phone out, he calls for our extraction.

When we board the chopper, he insists on sitting beside Maverick’s body. As he sits vigil, clearly deep in thought, my heart downright aches. Not just for myself and my team, but for Digit, Sheri, their children, Mav’s parents and siblings.

What I wouldn’t give to go back and rewind time. To, if I couldn’t prevent his death, at least be the one to put Armatrout down like the rabid dog he was.

As the helicopters rise up into the sky, taking us home, we all turn at the sound of the first explosion. A loud cheer goes up as the detonations chase each other until the last one goes off and the mountaintop compound is reduced to nothing more than stone and rubble.

A grim grin stretches my lips in a parody of a smile, watching as yet another one of Armatrout’s strongholds is obliterated.

“Honey?” Leila’s quiet voice pulls me from my tortured thoughts.

I’ve gone over them so many times since Mav was taken from us, looking at everything that happened from all angles, trying to figure out if we could have done anything different to prevent his death. But no matter how many times I play it over in my mind, I can’t see a different ending.

It was an indication of the man John “Maverick” Henderson was, that he would give his own life to protect the life of another. It’s what we sign up for when we take on the job. But Mav was all in. His commitment to the job went above and beyond. It was just who he was.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Where’d you go?”

“Just got a little caught up in my head.” A painful sounding sob from Sheri has me shifting my gaze to the pew in front of me, where she’s sitting with the family.

She turns to Digit, who’s sitting beside her, as he says something to her. Her anguish is a palpable thing — like a living, breathing entity, ravaging her heart and soul.

I feel Leila’s soft hand wrap around my much larger one and, turning to look at her, I’m suddenly hit with the thought that I don’t want this for her. Her beautiful heart and generous spirit would be crushed if she were to ever find herself in Sheri’s situation.

A sense of urgency washes through me and suddenly, with startling clarity, I know what needs to be done. The fear and uncertainty that’s been riding me in these weeks since Maverick was killed, demand a way to shield her from this happening to her.

We’re already in so deep, but if I walk away now, I can spare her the agony of having to endure what Sheri is right now.