Trusting a Warrior (Loving a Warrior #3) - Melanie Hansen Page 0,1

pointed at the gate, which appeared to be ajar. “Might as well have a goddamn welcome mat out front, too.”

“‘Come on in, boys. Get blown up!’” someone cracked, and mirthless chuckles went around the group.

Jaxon lowered his binos. “Send in the K9.”

Geo uttered a few terse commands, Bosch’s lithe form a dark blur as he streaked toward the compound. To the SEALs, he was easily trackable by the chem-lites hanging from his vest, but to the naked eye, he’d be all but invisible.

Unable to keep from tensing, Geo waited for shots to ring out, the bloodcurdling yelp of an animal in pain...

All was silent.

Bosch sniffed along the bottom of the rock-and-mud wall as he’d been trained, looking for buried explosives, then moved on to inspect the gate. Nothing.

“Okay. Let’s move in.”

At Jaxon’s order, the team fanned out and headed for the compound. At the base of the wall, their sniper unhooked the collapsible ladder from his ruck, set it up and scaled it to the top. He scanned the interior courtyard.

“No movement,” he reported.

“Over the ladder or through the gate, boss?”

At Kelly’s question, Jaxon glanced at the dog, who’d returned to Geo’s side and stood in an alert stance, ears up, body forward. “Gate,” he said. “K9 cleared it.”

A rush of warmth and pride settled in Geo’s chest at the vote of confidence. On a SEAL team, trust was never just given—it had to be earned, and at this moment seven men were putting their lives in his hands, in his training of his dog.

And their work wasn’t done yet.

Geo moved to the gate and inched it open far enough for everyone to squeeze through one by one. Once inside, the men spread out across the courtyard as their sniper covered them from his prone position atop the wall.

With Bosch at his heels, Geo headed toward the main structure, a small one-story house. That door, too, was ajar. When Bosch didn’t alert on the threshold, Geo moved in behind him, using the barrel of his M-4 to push the door open wider. The smell that assaulted his nose made bile rush into his throat, and he gagged.

“Got something,” he croaked into the troop net. “Something dead.”

Instantly their platoon medic, Cade, and Jaxon were by his side. Geo let his rifle hang from his shoulder as he slid the powerful flashlight from its sheath on his belt and switched it on, illuminating the single room.

“Jesus Christ.”

The interior of the small structure was splattered in blood, huge rusty pools of it soaked into the earthen floor. A machete lay on a table underneath some frayed ropes that dangled from the ceiling.

At his feet, the dog let out a distressed whine, something Geo had never heard him do. He reached down to give him a reassuring pat. “I feel it, too, bud.”

The evil permeating the room seemed to brush along Geo’s skin, echoes of screams lingering in his ears.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Jaxon said grimly. Cade’s face was bone white, eyes stark as he backed from the doorway.

“Boss?” Kelly called out. “Something wrong?”

Jaxon put his hand up to stop him from striding over. “Spare yourself. We’ve seen what they wanted us to see.”

Which was what? A warning? A diversion? Why was the cell phone planted to lure them here in the first place?

Geo could see the wheels turning in Jaxon’s head as his sharp gaze darted around the compound. This dude was a leader Geo would follow into the fiery depths of hell itself—calm, decisive, his emotions locked down and firmly in check. In contrast, Cade was shaking, his upper lip gleaming with sweat in the moonlight.

A frisson of alarm moved through Geo. This was not the time to be losing it. They had to get their asses out of this mess first.

As if hearing his thoughts, Cade made a visible effort to pull himself together, and when he spoke, his voice was calm. “What’s the plan?”

Jaxon turned to Geo. “Is there any other way out of here?”

Instantly he knew what he was thinking. “Yeah. There’s another gate by the animal pen.”

The small pen and nearby shed had just been searched—no bad guys or explosives—so if the cell phone wasn’t planted to lure them here and blow them up, then the ambush must be waiting for them outside.

As they grouped up to move toward the secondary gate, Bosch suddenly tilted his head back, sniffed the air, and bristled. Although he hadn’t made a sound, Geo paused. He knew all his

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