Breaking Point. Lindsay McKenna

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      CHAPTER TWO

      “THERE ARE A LOT of women in here,” Bay noted as they sat opposite from each other at a long, wooden table at the busy chow hall. The noise was high, a lot of laughter, ribbing and joking going around.

      Gabe nodded, glad to get a plate of eggs, bacon, toast and grits. “You see that group of ladies over there in those tan flight suits?”

      Bay looked to her left. There were at least eight women sitting together having breakfast. “Yes. Are they pilots?”

      “Not just any pilots,” Gabe said, savoring the salty bacon. Out on patrols, they sweated so much they lost electrolytes. Bacon helped replace the salt in his body. “They’re from a black ops group known as the Black Jaguar Squadron. Been here for four years. It’s an all female Apache helo combat group.”

      Eyes widening, Bay said, “That’s terrific. How are they doing in combat?”

      Gabe smiled a little between bites. People in the military usually gulped and ran. They didn’t spend time lingering over a meal. She was the same.

      “Let’s put it this way. When our comms man calls for Apaches to come and help us out, we don’t care who’s flying them. All we care about is if they can hit the target.” He rolled his shoulders after sitting up to take a breather. “Those gals can nail targets.”

      “Not even Hammer and his group are unhappy with them?” As they were unhappy with her.

      “Not a peep.” Gabe picked up his mug of coffee. “Hammer and a few of the other guys are worried that you won’t keep up on patrols. Or you’ll cost one of them their lives because they have to protect you instead of knowing you’ll have a gun in the fight like them.”

      Nodding, Bay finished off her scrambled eggs. She reached for the strawberry jam and a knife. “That’s fair.”

      “Since I’m going to be acclimating you to our team, can you tell me about working with U.S. Army Special Forces over in Iraq?” Gabe was more than a little curious about her background. Bay looked as though she belonged in a hospital. Maybe as a doctor or nurse. Not a woman in a combat zone.

      “I ran patrols with them for six months during my last deployment. Most of the time we worked along the Syrian border area with Iraq. Sometimes we came back to the green zone in Baghdad for a rest.” Wrinkling her nose, she said, “It’s a terrible place, Gabe. You can’t trust anyone. They all lie to you. My captain was always pulling out his hair, trying to figure out who was lying and who wasn’t. One group would tell you that another group was al Qaeda. He learned a long time ago not to believe any of them. This was his third deployment and he knew the dance.”

      “Did you perform many walking patrols?” Gabe knew the SEALs would be out on foot patrols for up to twelve hours sometimes. If Bay couldn’t, that would pose a helluva problem for all of them.

      “I’m fit enough, Gabe. We’d range out on foot for eight to twelve hours. Our team was always moving along the border at night with NVGs on. That was when the Syrian smugglers would try and get past the official highway entrance gate in and out of the two countries. We’d be on patrol from dusk until dawn. Sometimes, depending upon who we ran into, we’d cover fifteen klicks.”

      “Any problems with those kinds of physical demands?” Gabe asked, holding her blue gaze. There was such seriousness to her expression as she considered his question. Gabe didn’t want to like her, and he fought it. Hadn’t he had enough woman troubles the past year?

      “None. Now,” Bay said, reaching for her coffee, “I treated a lot of heat exhaustion cases, muscle cramps and things like that with my team. You know how you get focused on the mission. You’re chasing the bad guys and you forget to drink water from your CamelBak? Some of the strongest, most fit Special Forces dudes would keel over out there. I learned to carry a lot more IVs in my pack to rehydrate them. Otherwise, we’d be calling in a medevac every time to lift them out.”

      Nodding, Gabe knew the hydration problem. SEALs dealt with the same issues. “When I was LPO for my team, I was always on my guys to keep drinking water out on patrol. Everyone forgets. Especially when we’re engaged with the enemy.”

      “Yup,” Bay said, smiling a little. She liked looking at Gabe. He was rugged looking, had high cheekbones and she liked his mouth best of all. The corners moved naturally upward and his lips were even and very kissable. His beard was fairly well trimmed, unlike with some of the other guys on the team.

      Bay especially liked the keen intelligence she saw in Gabe’s eyes. This guy was no slouch. He had broad, capable shoulders beneath his dusty cammies. She liked his hands, now curved around the mug in front of him. He had long, spare hands, large knuckled, burned dark by the sun, a smattering СКАЧАТЬ