Crux Grey: Grey's Ranch Trilogy

By Pamela J. Roe

Crux Grey had no desire to leave the remote mountain valley and the life he loved. However, when Abel Grey forced his son's hand by insisting his eldest son go to college, the teenager, in a gesture of rebellion, signed his name on a thin black line in the local recruitment office, committing to serve his country in the military. The angry young man boarded the first bus out of town, fleeing Grey's Ranch and the only life he'd ever known. Not even in the darkest, most foreign parts of the world could The Cowboy escape his desire to become a rancher. It wasn't until tragedy struck, two times over, that the duty-bound heir returned to Colorado and his family's ranch to assume his father's position as Grey's Ranch patriarch. The tragedies were his fault. Could Crux survive the nightmares that refused to go away as he battled unbearable guilt? Could the life The Cowboy once knew ever be the same?

Remi couldn't escape the constraints of small-town life and the watchful eye of her pious father soon enough. She focused on her dream of becoming a nurse and her desire to explore other parts of the world. But when her life took an unexpected turn and she found out she was pregnant, Remington Jacobs was forced to make a choice. Unable to endure the whispers and judgmental comments directed her way, the young mother accepted orders from the Navy and fled to Germany with her baby. She vowed to make a good life for a child who didn't have a father.

The stars aligned, calling Crux and Remi to return to the peaceful mountain valley where their childhood dreams were made, unbeknownst to one another. The young mother and nurse sought safety and stability for her son. The Cowboy was anchored by a dream to fulfill his destiny. Neither expected to be met with unexplained danger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887934044

Book preview

Undisclosed location

When a gust of wind caused the ancient door to slam shut, soldiers in the room shifted, standing at attention. The Cowboy had entered the building. Dressed in desert fatigues and combat boots, the imposing man strode to the middle of the room, stopped, and began his survey. At ease, he ordered. With a critical eye, he studied each piece of equipment and every soldier who returned to their work, hypnotized by the sophisticated computer systems that were on display, lined up against the dingy and disheveled perimeter walls and clustered in the center of the room. As he perused the small space, his confidence grew. His orders had been followed.

What is that smell? He raised his hand and covered his nose, hoping to mollify the stench that pervaded the decaying building. A place that had survived years of abuse and was now assigned to serve as the mission’s tactical operations center. An old, dilapidated building with little more than a dirt floor. Only a few lazy paint strips remained haphazardly hanging from the aging, dung-filled walls, threatening to fall. Two antiquated air conditioners struggled to rid the room of its unrelenting heat. If the Commander’s memory served him correctly, he and his team had worked in worse conditions than this.

Choosing to ignore the smell, the mission’s chief picked up where he left off, inspecting his staff one by one. A few nodded, and even fewer made eye contact, yet each showed reverence and respect for the soldier they knew as The Cowboy.

Of course, not a single person was brave enough to utter the nickname to the man’s face. His officers addressed him as Commander Grey. Only a handful of the soldiers had any hint of the moniker’s origin. A label that stuck with the soldier since his early years in boot camp. Those that didn’t know its provenance chose not to ask.

State-of-the-art equipment had been arranged according to the boss’s orders in a way that would allow his soldiers to monitor the operational progress of the covert mission that had only recently been given a greenlight and to maintain open communication with Alpha Team. The Cowboy’s team. The special operations team assigned to the rescue.

The Commander moved from his position in the room and began wandering purposefully, studying each of the monitors and the information displayed before him. The crease between his dark eyes deepened, daring any soldier to interfere with his thoughts. As lifesaving maneuvers and combat scenarios filtered through the man’s mind, Crux Grey did his best to anticipate the future. He focused on the mission that was scheduled to unfold, events that could lead to his team’s demise.

After locating the line-of-sight communication system, the muscles in his jaw relaxed. He knew the equipment was the best on the market and would allow his men to communicate efficiently with each other. All eyes would be on Alpha Team as they moved into position to extract their assigned target. The president and his cabinet would watch safely from thousands of miles away.

It was only a few hours earlier that the man’s location had been confirmed, and the mission was given the go-ahead. Like other missions Crux had served on, the operation was pulled together swiftly during the early morning hours.

He shook his head in disgust after reading the report that was slipped into his hand. Alpha Team was activated to rescue some senator’s son. A young man stupid enough to get caught across a border he had no business being in. A senseless mission that would put lives at risk, the lives of his brothers.

The Commander felt confident knowing his team was one of the most elite units in the world. Their skills the best. Every member had been vetted and approved by The Cowboy, each willing to risk his or her life in dark and dangerous places throughout the world under the most extreme conditions. But that didn’t stop him from worrying. No politician or president would have their back. With hundreds of missions and countless hours served, his operatives understood there would be no awards or ribbons for their illicit missions. No one would be waiting to offer gratitude for a life risked or offer condolences for a soldier down.

Training was rigorous, and excuses weren’t allowed. During practice exercises, Commander Grey’s operators were challenged to expect the unexpected and react expeditiously to unknown variables not even the best in the field could predict. Regardless of the number of hours spent training, every mission remained a risk. The elite operative understood how a hastily prepared mission could sway an outcome in a direction he did not want any of his men to experience. Yet he remained steadfast in his knowledge that the skill, training, and expertise of the staff and facilities within which he worked would prevail. He was confident the mission would be a success. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have agreed to do the job. For Crux Grey, no amount of money or fame and glory was worth risking the life of a single member of his team.

The Commander’s survey came to a halt when he moved behind Sergeant Romero, hoping for a better view of the boundaries where the action would take place.

Sir, the soldier stood at attention and saluted his Commander.

At ease, Sergeant. The soldier sat down and resumed his duties. The Cowboy peered over the young man’s shoulder, watching surveillance video revealing Alpha Team members’ advancement, one by one, across the computer’s screen. He listened closely to the words his ground operatives spoke, checking in with hushed and muffled voices.

His dark eyes turned darker as he watched the black screen, studying his team’s movement in the field. Adrenaline pumping through his veins urged him to move into formation with his men. Understanding that he couldn’t, he swallowed, dislodging the lump caught in his throat.

The Cowboy was the Commander of his team. He was no longer permitted to join his men in the field. He was secured in a room. Sheltered and protected. Expected to stand by and watch. The Commander’s stance widened; his jaw locked. A feeble attempt to force the uneasiness surging throughout his body away, telling him to hold firm.

It wasn’t difficult for the eldest Grey brother to identify the heat-sensor likeness of his sibling. His eyes tracked the small neon green image as it moved surreptitiously onto the dark screen. The image of Orion moved cautiously across the monitor and assumed the first position as the team lead. The bright figure was followed closely by like representations of Jess and Iker, flanking his little brother on the operative’s left and right. Just as he had ordered, Orion was protected. He trusted no one more with his little brother’s life than the two Alpha Team brothers that surrounded him. Commander Grey breathed easier, knowing his specially trained men would do whatever was necessary to protect one another.

Less than half a kilometer away, in place to protect the team’s fore members, the Commander watched another group of images advance across the screen. Members of Alpha Team’s rearguard moving forward discreetly from behind, making headway into position.

A loud crack emanated through a speaker startling the inhabitants of the command center instantly hushing them. All eyes turned to monitors. Waiting and watching. Tension could be cut with a knife.

The Commander didn’t move. Air captured in his lungs remained imprisoned. Refusing to allow another breath. Sweat began to bead across his brow. His temper rose. What the hell’s going on? Commander Grey prepared himself for battle.

Disciplined, he counted silently. Slowly releasing his breath, he waited for word from his team.

One thousand one. One thousand two.

An unidentified voice called out, Alpha Four in position.

In unison, the room exhaled.

The Chief cleared his mind of extemporaneous thoughts as he waited fearlessly for the time when he would order his team to act. The Cowboy surveyed the room, confirming all hands were on deck to help with the extraction of his men and Alpha Team’s target and to communicate any hint of danger. Calling his men into action was the easiest part of the Commander’s job. It wasn’t in his nature to second guess his decision or to hesitate.

Intense minutes passed in silence. Soldiers in the command center continued their vigilance as they watched Alpha Team operatives surround the old building and wait for word from their Commander.

When Crux locked eyes with Lieutenant Colonel Jeffries, she dared a broad smile. His subordinate offered a quick wink and signaled with a thumbs-up, gesturing assurance to the man that counted on her. Jeffries had served on multiple missions with Commander Grey. He trusted her. She was better than the best. Over the years, the two officers struck an enduring friendship that spanned beyond any single mission. She wasn’t intimidated by The Cowboy and let her gaze settle on the lines on his face. With bold familiarity, she watched as he stretched to his full height in an effusive pose.

He knew she was watching him.

A deep chuckle escaped from her throat when she caught the glimmer of a curl on her boss’s lips, causing everyone in the room to turn and look. What might have been construed as flirtation by any stranger observing the officer’s behavior had worked.

The Cowboy’s shoulders dropped. His knees unlocked. Commander Grey’s rigid stance ended. Jeffries’s mission to relax her boss was a success.

Anticipation continued its suffocation as inhabitants of the small, dank room counted the endless seconds, waiting for word. Minutes seemed to turn into hours.

Each soldier worked methodically, performing the task they had been assigned. When power in the building surged, a single light bulb began to flicker. Commander Grey’s eyes considered the soldier who stood up and quickly exited the room before returning his thoughts to the task at hand, knowing the man would find a solution to an obvious electrical problem.

He stared at the watch on his wrist, impatient with the passing of time. He listened to soft murmurs from the human bodies inhabiting the dark, putrid-smelling room, providing information to one another in an effort to protect his team. He worried about his team’s survival. He couldn’t deny knowing the amount of danger his team was in, entering a building that reminded him of a cement tomb. Waiting patiently to bury unsuspecting guests. He was counting on every soldier in his sight to remain steadfast to the mission, unconcerned about their individual safety, alert to any movement or shadow that could bring harm to Alpha Team.

The Commander continued his vigilance as staff spoke to one another in low, monotone voices, sharing critical information when necessary. Team members anticipated the moment they would be called upon to demonstrate the special skill they had been selected for. Each were waiting patiently to do their part to assist with the rescue and send confirmation to Washington that the mission was a success and loved ones would be headed home.

Alpha Three. Check.

A second later, Alpha Two. Check.

Timing was critical.

Four years earlier, Crux received a promotion that gave him the opportunity to command the elite group of soldiers known as Alpha Team, a team he distinguished himself as a member of. Accepting the command allowed The Cowboy to select his own team and determine what missions Alpha Team would accept. However, his acceptance of the command required The Cowboy to relinquish his position as a field operative, and any opportunity to participate in ground action would be severed.

At first, the Commander balked at the offer. He refused to concede his time serving as a ground operative would ever end. He had no desire to surrender his position next to his brothers. Whether it was the impertinence of the offer or his own vaingloriousness, Crux Grey was unwilling to abandon his position in the field or let anyone force him from a job he was conceivably good at. He had been forced away once and vowed never to let it happen again.

Crux would never forget the time when he was eighteen, a time when his father’s demands forced him to leave the only place he’d ever known. Grey’s Ranch. His home. The place he loved and never planned to leave until he had to.

The bitterness was gone, but the memory refused to fade.

Crux’s appetite for responsibility never wavered. He enjoyed a challenge and didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. It was his preference. Like working on the ranch, serving his country could be a dirty job. Whether behind enemy lines or in remote locations with problematic weather and dubious circumstances, Crux Grey never faltered from doing the job. He accepted the challenge and committed to the most dangerous missions.

His Alpha Team brothers sought him as their leader. The soldiers convinced him he could best serve the team by accepting the command. There wasn’t a chief they could trust more than Crux Grey. The man wouldn’t hesitate to use his power to intercede if things didn’t go as planned. He protected his men and expedited their escape, refusing to cave to political pressure from Washington and its bipartisan leaders. He had no choice but to vacate his position as a member of the ground forces and accept the command position.

Officers who served under The Cowboy’s command knew that failure was not an option. Crux Grey refused to give up. It wasn’t part of his nature. Commander Grey was known to do everything in his power to see that the members of his team returned whole from a mission and to the safety of their families and home.

Denied the opportunity to remain on his family’s ranch, Crux accepted what the Marines had to offer. His unrequited dream of becoming a rancher didn’t stop him from excelling in his military career. The Corps gave his young self a purpose in life at a time when he saw none. Like the dream he’d tucked in the back of his head and refused to surrender, Commander Grey found it impossible to abandon his men or accept failure in any of his missions. He would never leave any man behind.

Command Center, this is Alpha One. Troops in position. Do we have a go?

The time had come for The Cowboy to do his job. Any hesitation could mean the difference between life and death. Commander Grey wasn’t about to jeopardize the safety of his men. The words he would speak would shift control of the mission to the highly trained operatives on the ground. My brothers know what they are doing. He trusted every man on his team with his life.

Stretching his six-foot three-inch frame to its full height, The Cowboy spoke into the mic, This is Command Center. ‘Go’ for Alpha One. The Commander of the elite special operative team ordered his men into harm’s way.

Substratum voices pervaded the silence in the command center. Eyes focused on monitors, watching the elite team slip further into enemy territory.

A preemptive explosion sent a signal to those listening that the building where their target was last seen was about to be breached, and Alpha Team soldiers would be attempting to commandeer the first floor. The same blast sent notice to the team’s enemy and a warning to civilians in the area that troops were approaching on the ground. The Cowboy’s soldiers took another step closer to death.

As the dust cleared from the violent detonation, personnel manning the monitors watched what appeared to be scared civilians scurrying away from the destruction, seeking shelter as far away from the condemned building as they could get. Anyone within city limits would have heard the sound. A deep crevasse over the Commander’s brow revealed his concern for the team’s movement and mission.

Command Center personnel stood by helpless, listening to muffled sounds and shuffling feet.

Clear.

Clear. Two volleys from an MK 48 sounded. Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp.

Clear. Two insurgents were down.

Without burning additional ammunition, Alpha Team moved swiftly to clear the remainder of the building’s ground floor. Danger lurked.

Legs, shoulder width apart, and arms folded across his chest, Commander Grey studied the movement of his men as they began their ascent to the second floor. He planted his feet, bracing himself against the surge of adrenaline that pumped through his body, urging him to join the battle. His eyes focused on the computer screen, fighting the force that incited him to call out to his men, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Years of experience warned him about what he saw.

The Cowboy glared at the unidentified images huddled, in what appeared to be a small room, on the second floor, understanding what they were. The enemy. Waiting to kill his team.

For hours, Crux had studied the schematics of the building that was laid out on an adjoining desk before him. He glanced, once more, at the documents. He suspected that the yellowed and soiled plans failed to include any recent modifications to the structure and that his men could be walking into a trap. If only I’d had the time to send in a reconnaissance team.

It was common practice, in so many parts of the world, for insurgents to build underground tunnels and traps to facilitate an ambush or escape. The use of hidden passageways as an element of surprise was expected. Alpha Team’s enemy wouldn’t make it easy for his team to rescue and extract their captive.

The Commander knew; not even he could predict what awaited his soldiers during the next few minutes, even after spending late-night hours searching for fragments of information that could keep them alive.

Alpha Two, you’re with me. Orion was heard ordering his men over comms. Crux knew Iker was ordered to join Alpha One as the two soldiers quietly mounted the stairs to the second floor. The moment of relief he felt hearing his younger brother’s voice wouldn’t last long.

Three, you’ve got our six.

Locked and loaded, boss. Jess moved into position to guard the ground floor, protecting Orion’s and Iker’s backs as the two men advanced forward. Up a rickety, old stairway in an attempt to secure the team’s target and destroy any enemy that stood in the way. Jess stood guard, preventing the enemy from slipping behind his two teammates as they ascended the stairs.

Comms down, boys. We’re heading to the front line, Alpha’s ground leader ordered radios off, tenuous to what might lie ahead and unwilling to allow a radio to announce their position. The Command Center’s communication with ground operatives was silenced.

The stilled seconds that passed were critical. Crux knew the quicker Alpha Team located and secured its target, the more likely his men could slip away from the rebel stronghold and escape from harm’s way. Every second that passed could be the difference between life and death.

Relentless heat stifled the room, causing perspiration to run down his face. Without thought, he swiped his sleeve across his face to prevent the moisture from spreading.

Alpha One, where are you, brother?

Commander, we have a problem. The officer’s eyes shifted to his chief. We’ve got two vehicles approaching, two and a half klicks away. Loaded. Guns and mortar. A dozen men. Moving in fast. ETA is under three minutes.

The Command Center staff exploded into action, searching for answers, desperate to find a way to relay the information to Alpha Team, afraid the attempt would be in vain.

Open comms, the Cowboy shouted.

Alpha One, come in. Silence.

Alpha One, come in. The Sergeant’s effort was futile. He begged his Commander for instruction.

Where are you, little brother?

Alpha One ordered comms silent. A standard procedure for any mission. Ground troops were in charge. There was nothing anyone in the Command Center could do but wait. Watch monitors. Listen. And for some, pray.

The Cowboy shouted, Keep trying! Within seconds, the enemy would descend upon his brothers, putting every soldier’s life in jeopardy. Alpha Team had to be warned. He wasn’t about to stand by and watch his men die.

Alpha One, come in, Sergeant Romero radioed. Alpha One, do you copy? A plea went out for anyone on the team to answer, Command Center calling for Alpha! Come in, Alpha!

Crux grabbed the mic, displaying his alarm. Alpha One, come in for Commander Grey!

No one responded.

Disregarding protocol, The Cowboy shouted, Damnit, Orion, answer me!

Silence engulfed the room like flames. All eyes searched for answers on blacked-out monitors, too afraid to face the torture they’d see on their Commander’s face.

Blood surged through Crux’s body, causing the veins in his neck to protrude. He struggled to think of a way to warn his team. He unconsciously clenched his fists as anger raged throughout his body, desperate to help. His men didn’t have more than a few seconds to secure their target and escape from a structure that would collapse into a tomb. Any incoming mortar would destroy the dilapidated building and bring his men down in it.

"Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp."

Command Center, this is— Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp. Comms cracked, and the voice disappeared.

Sergeant Romero called out, Command Center calling for Alpha One. Do you copy?

Copy, Command Center. Alpha One sending a picture and a print. We need confirmation? A deep sigh of relief rang out from somewhere in the room as soldiers shifted into action. The Commander recognized his brother’s voice. Orion was alive.

"Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp."

An image of a bloodied and beaten hostage appeared slowly across the screen. Jesus was muttered under a soldier’s breath, a promising young man serving on his inaugural tour with the team. The image on display had no physical likeness to the photo they’d been given. Clearly, the unwelcomed guest had paid a price. The next image was nothing more than an outline of a fingerprint.

It wasn’t until the bold words Target Identified popped up across the black screen that the Command Center confirmed the crimson fingerprint offered an ID.

Sir, target’s confirmed, Sergeant Romero called out.

Get our team out of there! The Cowboy shouted.

"Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp."

Alpha One. Target is confirmed. Get out of there now! the Sergeant copied, relaying the need for an expedited escape.

The Command Center stood by as Alpha Team made their way from the enemy stronghold, knowing the wounded target would be slung over the shoulder of one of the team members and carried out of the building on their backs.

"Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp." Sounds of machine guns pulsed rhythmically through the air. A mortar could be heard exploding in the background, followed by an eruption of gunfire. Chaos ensued. The fireworks droned on forever. With eyes darting from one monitor to another, soldiers in the Command Center watched helplessly as the firefight exploded before their eyes and pounded in their ears. When the sound of the second mortar hit, there wasn’t a soul who believed anyone left in the building would be alive.

The room was haunted with stillness. No one breathed. No one moved.

Silence hovered in a cloak of death as anxious seconds passed like hours.

"Brrraaappp. Brrraaappp." Alpha Team was still in the fight.

In a moment, any man left inside the crumbling building would be dead. All because some rich man’s kid crossed the wrong border. Crux raised his eyes to the sky and implored the heavens to protect his men as they made their escape from the crumbling building to the prearranged extraction point.

Command Center, Alpha Three reporting. Target secured. Two down. Four minutes to rendezvous, a voice blasted loud and clear.

Jess. Alpha Three was alive.

Choppers on the way? Crux shouted, questioning no one in particular.

Choppers are two minutes from extraction point, Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Jeffries confirmed.

Target secured. Two down. Wounded? Or dead? Blood drained from Crux’s face. He glared at the man’s image on the screen. The rich man’s kid is lucky he’s already bloodied and beaten, or I’d do it myself.

His silent anger gave way to worry but not for the rescued boy. Why wasn’t Orion on comms? Why wasn’t Alpha One reporting? Or Alpha Two? What happened to the men he considered brothers?

Jess was alive. He recognized his friend’s voice. What about the rest of my team? Not even the most disciplined officer could refrain from worry. As blood drained from his face, Commander Grey considered the possibilities. But he knew it wouldn’t be until his team made it safely to the extraction point and they were on a flight back to base camp that the information he sought so desperately to know could be relayed.

Four minutes out. That’s too much time.

His entire team could be wiped out in that amount of time.

Anticipating her boss’s thoughts, Lieutenant Colonel Jeffries called out, Birds off ground and on their way.

Commander Grey studied his soldiers, contemplating the benefits of ordering an air strike. What could the planes strike? The old building had already been hit with a mortar and was likely no more than a pile of rubble. What if one of his soldiers was injured and trapped in the debris? There was no way he’d abandon one of his men. If a second team wasn’t available for the rescue, he’d do it himself. Until he knew the status of every single one of his soldiers, The Cowboy held off calling for an air strike.

Why wasn’t Alpha One reporting the team’s status? What about Alpha Two? It was mission protocol for Alpha Two to report when Alpha One couldn’t, and for some reason, Alpha Three had expropriated comms.

Alpha One and Two are down.

There is no other reason.

Orion and Iker were injured or, worse…dead.

Crux didn’t need to hear it from anyone else. His stomach roiled. Bile caught in his throat as his thoughts raged. He knew how ground operations worked. The news wasn’t anything he wanted to hear.

Did I just send my brothers to their death?

The Cowboy wouldn’t find any answers to his questions in the room. He turned toward the closed and secured door and stared at its rusty hinges. Without any effort, he could pull it off its hinges and walk through it.

Lieutenant Colonel Jeffries saw the look before. She’d witnessed his eyelids lower, hiding the man’s dark brown eyes. She felt the heat of his emotion and understood the rage. Hadn’t they been her own before? Commander Grey’s subordinate moved quietly to her boss’s side, ready to prevent him, if necessary, from acting on impulse.

The madness of not knowing was more than he could stand. He needed to know if his brothers were alive. The need propelled Crux forward, one step closer to the door. But Jeffries interrupted his movement by stepping in the way. Unafraid, she took a stand in the man’s path. Commander, your men need you here, Lieutenant Colonel Jeffries reminded her boss in a calm, matter-of-fact way.

She’d heard the report, just like every human in the room, and knew the information would place even the most hardened soldiers on edge. She understood the unconscionable position her boss and friend was in. The Cowboy was just informed his closest friend and brother were hurt or possibly dead. It was a given that any report of casualties during a covert mission placed all staff on edge; however, for Commander Grey, the stakes were even higher.

Crux dared the Lieutenant Colonel to stand in his way, moving into a leonine stance, asserting his authority.

Jeffries held her position, refusing to budge.

The Commander hadn’t expected less of her. His gaze targeted the woman in a warning. Damn, why does Jeffries have to be here?

Crux knew this officer would do anything to prevent him from leaving his post and would have no qualms wrestling The Cowboy to the ground to prevent him from leaving. He’d seen her do it before. Jeffries was an equal match to any soldier he’d ever known. Male or female. And she was his equal match when he was honest enough to admit it.

When he checked for the position of her sidearm, the soldier’s hand flexed, signaling she was ready to use it. She wouldn’t. Or would she?

The Commander shifted his body into what he thought would be a menacing pose, moving his legs under his torso. The tall man stood even taller, warning his intent to take issue with his subordinate.

A silent audience of soldiers watched inconspicuously. Tentative to the battle that was brewing. Afraid the two reputable officers would come to blows. Wondering what they should do. Neither the Commander nor the Lieutenant Colonel showed any willingness to concede what was true. Jeffries refused to let her superior officer intimidate her with his newly assumed stance and didn’t back down.

She suspected he would thank her later.

For what seemed like an insurmountable amount of time to everyone seated in the room, they watched as The Cowboy locked eyes with the Lieutenant Colonel. Teddy Jeffries addressed her boss, once again, in a low, controlled voice, Commander Grey, your orders have been followed. Any interference at the extraction point might complicate matters. The officer paused to take a breath. Besides, we need you here.

Commander Grey considered his surroundings. He saw the eyes that rested upon him. Returning his gaze to Jeffries, he took a step back, heeding his officer’s words. After clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, his pulse slowed. His eyes softened. The Commander’s temper began to wane. Jeffries is right. Crux Grey’s duty remained in the Command Center. He needed to trust his men to do the job they’d been trained to do. His boots on the ground would leave no stone unturned to save every man on the team and manage their escape.

Colonel, I’ve got choppers on the line. Jeffries signaled Sergeant Romero to open the lines.

Chopper One calling for Command Center. Target on board. All operators accounted for. ETA four minutes, Alpha Three reported. The room burst into applause. Alpha Team would land at base camp within minutes.

However, the jubilant mood was soon stifled when an urgent voice continued to