Breaking Point. Lindsay McKennaЧитать онлайн книгу.
to the team. “Doc Thorn is the first woman to ever be allowed to go through and graduate from Army 18 Delta combat medic training. Almost two-thirds of the Army Special Forces guys who go through this eighteen-month course fail. But she didn’t. She’s used her skills for the last two years in Iraq combat situations and hasn’t lost a man yet.”
All the SEALs looked at one another, doubly shocked. The 18 Delta combat medics were the golden hour in a field of combat. They saved lives that regular combat medics were not trained to do. Nearly all SEALs who were medics were graduates of 18 Delta. The looks on their faces turned to grudging respect.
* * *
GABE GRIFFIN SMILED a little to himself. Chief Hampton was smart. Bay showed her humbleness and yet nailed the disbelievers in the team with the one thing that counted: a damn good medic who could save their sorry ass if they got shot out on a patrol or mission. About half the SEALs sat back, seriously digesting the info. Baylee-Ann Thorn’s soft drawl wasn’t quite Southern, so he wondered where she was from. He liked her husky voice, her confidence as she stood relaxed in front of the group. For a medic, she was a good height and weight. Bay, as he decided to call her, was probably around five feet ten inches tall. In a firefight, this woman could haul a SEAL to safety if she had to. Adrenaline would make up the difference.
Still, as Gabe listened to her background, he was struck by how innocent Bay looked. She had light brown, slightly curly hair, pulled back into a riotous ponytail. With intelligent blue eyes, a nice mouth and kind-looking face, she wasn’t typical of a combat SEAL. She wasn’t beautiful. Rather, natural and at ease with herself and who she was. Gabe liked her easygoing nature, and as he studied his team, he saw a couple of the guys losing their bristling demeanor.
Yes, Bay certainly had a nice voice. The kind of voice you’d want around if you were bleeding out and going to die in two and a half minutes. You’d believe anything Bay told you because you trusted her and trusted her incredible training. Gabe wondered if her personality would be able to tame the animals in this squad of eight shooters. They all sat alert on their benches, listening closely to what she had to say.
Chief Hampton looked at the team. “Thanks, Doc,” he said. “I want to welcome you to Alpha Platoon. Do you animals have any questions for her?”
“Yeah, I sure as hell do,” Hammer, who sat on the first bench nearest them, snarled. “Just what the hell was the Navy thinking? Putting a woman in our platoon? I don’t care if this is some top-secret op or not. It’s insane.”
Bay winced inwardly at the tall SEAL’s angry comment. He had disgust in his eyes. She felt his emotions strike her.
Hampton sighed. “Hammer, stand down. This is not her fault. Doc did volunteer for this experiment. Keep in mind this op has been ongoing for three years and it has been very successful.”
Hammer glared at the chief, challenging him. “Have there been any other bitches assigned to a SEAL squad?”
“Knock off the disrespect,” Hampton growled. “The answer is yes. And you wouldn’t have heard about it through the grapevine because every man signed that waiver, promising to never speak of it to anyone. Not even to other SEAL squads or platoons.”
Hammer lifted his chin. “She’s going out on our patrols with us?”
“That’s what a doc does,” Hampton replied in a reasonable tone.
“That’s friggin’ babysitting, Chief!” Hammer protested loudly. “It’s not like we don’t have enough on our hands watchin’ out for the tangos, the goddamn IEDs and the rest. Now we have to watch out for her ass, too? She’s a major distraction and that can get us killed.”
Bay put her hand out and briefly touched the chief’s shoulder. “Chief, if you would allow me?”
Hampton shrugged. “Go for it.”
Gabe sat back. Bay Thorn’s blue eyes narrowed slightly and her wide, soft mouth thinned. He was surprised she’d take on a SEAL, expecting her to hide behind the chief and let him do the fighting for her. That impressed him.
Bay met Hammer’s black glare. “I have never worked with SEALs, that’s true. From what I’ve heard about you guys over the years, y’all are heroes in my eyes.”
Gabe watched the team preen to a man, as if stroked by her long, narrow hand. They were warriors. And they had the confidence and training to rightfully feel that way about themselves. It was always nice to hear someone consider them heroes and tell them to their face, however. He watched Bay with fascination, wondering how she was ever going to handle this male alpha wolf team.
“The chief was right. I am trained for combat. I also have a yearlong immersion course in Pashto. I hope to be of help in different ways to you. I’d much rather be a terp, translator, for you, or another gun in the fight, than have to save your hide once you took a bullet out in the field. But I can do that, too. Like you, I’m multiskilled and consider myself an asset.”
Opening her hands, Bay said, “I come from hill people. I was born in the Allegheny Mountains of West Virginia. I grew up barefoot, learned to hunt in the woods starting at age six with my pa. My mama is a hill doctor and she’s saved many people’s lives and delivered a ton of babies. I know how to track, shoot and heal. I hope you’ll let me prove myself over time. I promise, I won’t be a pain in your collective butt. I will never put any of you at risk for me. Instead I’m trained to take the risks for you.”
The sincerity in her eyes and voice deeply affected Gabe. He looked around and saw about half his team bought her explanation. The other half didn’t.
“Okay,” Hammer said, “so you’re a friggin’ hillbilly. So what? What did you do, shoot squirrels and possum for your mama’s soup kettle?”
A snicker went through some of the team.
Hampton opened his mouth to chastise the squad, but Bay cut him a glance. He closed his mouth.
Giving the SEAL a loose smile, she said with humor, “Yes, I’m hill stock, for sure. And it’s true what we shoot, we eat. Squirrel ain’t all that bad,” she teased, dropping more into her dialect. “Tastes a little like the dark meat of a chicken or a wild turkey.” She saw Hammer’s eyes fill with disgust.
“We don’t need no hillbilly in our squad. Hell, I’ll bet you can’t hit the broadside of a barn!”
Gabe roused himself. He saw Chief Hampton ready to pounce on Hammer. He didn’t take guff from any of them, and Hammer was way out of line. “Hey,” Gabe called to Hammer, “why don’t you ask Doc what her longest shot was to kill an animal?”
Bay blinked. The SEAL in the back had a feral grin on his face as he challenged Hammer. What was this guy up to? She felt protectiveness emanating from him toward her. It was nothing obvious, but she picked up on his energy, anyway.
Hammer nodded. “Damn good question, Doc Thorn. What’s your best shot out in them thar woods?”
A number of the SEALs chuckled as he mimicked her dialect.
Bay shrugged. “I bagged an eight-point buck at twelve hundred.”
Half the SEALs burst into laughter, their collective guffaws echoing around the room. Bay frowned, saddened that they didn’t want her in the squad. Except for the SEAL in the back and maybe three other guys who were impressed with her medical training. The SEAL in the back was looking directly at her now. Their gazes locked. She felt the intensity of his slitted green gaze, a one-cornered smile appearing on his weathered face. In that moment, she felt the full power of his invisible protection.
When the laughter died down, Gabe called, “Doc, was that twelve hundred feet or twelve hundred yards?”
Hammer twisted around. “Oh, come on, bro! You know damn well it has to be feet, not yards! What fairy-tale world are you livin’ in?”
Bay suddenly understood what the SEAL was doing. She gave him a nod of thanks for having her back in this melee. Shifting her gaze