Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Awakening Aubrey (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Jack 'Em Up Book 7) by Shauna Allen Page A

followed minutes later by medics and EOD to disable any explosives the Tango had set.
    And still, I was handtied to do anything as the Colonel shot me a quick, stand-down glare when I paced his way. “Don’t even think about it, Sergeant. It’s over now.”
    “But, sir—”
    “No buts, Cortez. It’s. Over. You stand your post, that’s an order.”
    Impotent rage vibrated through me, but his steely eyes offered no argument. I finally nodded in acknowledgement and sunk into the closest chair, my mind a tornado, the eye of the storm whirling with one singular, continuous thought.
    I. Could. Not. Lose. Her.

Twelve
    Aubrey
    Seven minutes earlier . . .
    I was so numb, I couldn’t even be afraid. The longer this guy paced and talked to himself and checked the parts of his rifle, the more I accepted I was not going to make it out alive. None of us were. That would be a miracle, considering how he’d barricaded us in after my untimely entrance. All I could focus on was that I might never see my family again. Or Jude. This beautiful thing I’d just found was about to die with me and the unfairness of that weighed heavy on my soul. Why?
    My eyes darted around, assessing any route of escape. I saw none. Wasn’t help coming? We all heard the incessant ringing of the phone and the negotiators talking through the bullhorn, but this guy was in his own world of battle and enemies and wasn’t processing a thing other than his own delusion, that much was obvious.
    “Rhodes,” a male voice suddenly yelled from the back, making our captor pause in his incessant pacing of the aisles. “It’s Ghost. From Sarajevo. We need to talk, man.”
    My heart lurched at the familiar voice. Ghost was one of the good guys. Maybe we’d get out of here after all.
    “There’s nothing to talk about,” he yelled back in one of the first coherent sentences I’d heard from him.
    “Sure there is,” Ghost replied calmly. “Why don’t you let one of those hostages go and we can work this out.”
    Glassy eyes shot my way and I fought the urge to puke as he pinpointed me with his eerie, empty gaze. “What hostages? These people are not hostages, they’re targets. Don’t you see?” He toed the same older woman he’d thrown down earlier in the ribs, making her groan and cry out. “Shut up!” he screamed at her.
    Ghost and a couple of his guys crept into the main store area in full military gear, guns pointed. He silently pressed his hand down, indicating for us to keep quiet as he kept that Rhodes guy in his sights.
    From the side of the building, as if out of smoke, Fletch appeared and my heart sped up as he crept down the far aisle, his head low so his target wouldn’t see him.
    The woman at our captor’s feet began to scream bloody murder as he yanked her up by her hair, hate and murder in his eyes. He produced a pistol from his waistband and pointed it at her head.
    I couldn’t watch this. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled into a ball, tucking my head between my arms. I summoned thoughts of the people I loved most . . . my mom, Rachel, all the guys at the shop, Jude.
    I still didn’t look as people yelled and boots stomped all around. Glass shattered behind me, tiny shards pelting my back as warm air sailed in from outside. Smoke and chaos filled the air as people panicked and shots blasted.
    Then it was silent.
    Eerily silent.
    I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I just focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
    “Clear!” another male voice yelled from the back somewhere.
    “I’ve got one hostage down,” another yelled. “Who’s got the Tango? Ghost?”
    “Contained. Sound off!”
    “Fletch.”
    “Coach.”
    “Hollywood . . .”
    One by one, names were called, voices came closer. A warm hand curled around my arm. “Aubrey?”
    I slowly slid my eyes open and peered up into the familiar face of Fletch’s friend, Asher Creed. “Yes.”
    A small, pained smile ghosted across his lips. “Thank God. Cortez is going crazy