Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,116
Standard hospital issue. Nothing special and no one in sight. Until the door hissed quietly open and—
“Son of a bitch! Trevor Duncan!” He reached a hand to his Army buddy. The man who’d taught him to fly Blackhawks, and who’d personally covered his ass during Walker’s brief stint as a Nightstalker pilot.
“You ass!” Trevor growled, even as he took hold of Walker’s hand and squeezed the hell out of his fingers.
Brought sissy tears to Walker’s eyes, but that hard, tough handshake hurt so good. “Why are you here? How’d you…? Where’s…? Shit, don’t just stand there. Say something!”
Trevor dropped the toughest-man-in-the-room routine and let Walker’s hand go. “Been tracking your stupid ass for weeks now.”
“You rescued us? That was you? Where are Persia and Izza?”
Both Trevor’s palms came up as if to placate him. “Slow down. Take it easy. I’m not who rescued you. That was another guy. He’ll be in later. Guess he’s got trouble with some ornery senator in Washington, DC. He’s been on his phone all day. But listen… Someone’s waiting to see you.”
“Bring her in,” Walker said. Please. Bring Persia in, right damned now.
“Her?” Trevor teased as he leaned out into the hall and waved at someone to join them.
In walked Smoke Montoya, the dark-haired SEAL from Texas, and a fuckin’ legend.
“Hey,” growled the man who had single-handedly ended more ISIL and Taliban terrorists than any other spec ops operator. Then walked away from America for some reason Walker had never known.
“Smoke…?” Man, he was all choked up. “Why…? How…?”
Rolling one shoulder, Smoke stalked to the bed like he was ready to fight. “Because you’re my brother, that’s why,” he said as he took hold of Walker’s forearm, wrist to elbow. Some kind of wicked SEAL magic passed from him to Walker. Choked a man up to be remembered by the hero America had forgotten.
“And SEALs stick together,” another rugged voice muttered from the doorway.
Julio Juarez! “What are you doing here?” Walker croaked. Seeing these men—these brothers—was killing him. Stupid damned tears welled in his eyes, making him blink like a sissy.
“I’ve been looking for you since you left me stranded off the coast of Brazil,” Julio answered quietly. Once Smoke dropped Walker’s arm, Julio took possession, interlocking his wrist with Walker’s, like Smoke had just done. “I may not be a SEAL like you, amigo, but I will always be your brother. Meg says to tell you it’s time to stop running and come home. That you have more friends than you realize. That you’re going to be our son’s godfather.” He tugged something out of his rear pocket and slapped it onto Walker’s chest.
Holy hell, a one-way airline ticket to Dallas-Fort Worth, Texas.
“Dominic? That was that little guy’s name, right?” His brain was still plenty fuzzy, but Walker was sure that’s what Persia had told him the night they’d met.
Julio nodded. The man was another legend. Born in Mexico, he’d traveled north as a teenager to work the strawberry fields of California, then studied hard, finished high school early and entered a local community college. A year later, he joined the Navy to pay America back for his new-found freedom. Not only joined, but Julio had told his recruiter he planned to be a SEAL. That got him a SEAL mentor, who properly trained him to pass the rigorous BUDS PST, the physical screening test. He’d just been accepted for Hell week when Hell had literally come calling in the guise of Satan’s most evil spawn: Domingo Zapata. The sociopath kidnapped Julio’s family, which forced Julio to ring out and begin the arduous challenge of getting his wife and tiny son back. It took him five torturous years. But that was another story.
“He’s home with Meg. What shall I tell her?”
“Tell her I’ll try—”
Julio cocked his head. “You will try? You? A SEAL? One of America’s best, you will only try?”
Walker got the point. Try was not in any SEAL’s vocabulary. He slapped Julio’s hand, hard. “I’ll be there, damn it. Tell that wife of yours, yes. I’ll be there, and I’m proud to be Dominic’s godfather. You did marry her, didn’t you?”
Julio shrugged. “Of course. As soon as I could. She and Dominic are mi familia.”
“You’re one lucky son of a bitch,” Walker said, thinking of Persia and how lucky he was to have her in his life. It’d sure be nice if she stayed…
“Damned fuckin’ straight.” Lieutenant Junior Grade Ryder Dahl declared. Once Walker’s exec, he filled the doorway. Could’ve blocked the