Rescuing Bryn:Delta Force Heroes, Book 6

By: Susan Stoker

Delta Force Heroes, Book 6


Tracy, thank you very much for letting me use your city, your children, your husband, your husband’s job, and your prepper house in my story. I might make fun of you for buying a “prepper property,” but it truly is beautiful. When am I invited out again?


“Look at me,” a harsh voice demanded.

Tearing his gaze away from where his arm disappeared under the metal of the Army vehicle, Dane Munroe brought his gaze up to the man kneeling at his side. He was huge and menacing looking, but it was his piercing brown eyes, surprisingly filled with compassion, that made Dane relax a fraction.

“Don’t look away from my face again. That’s an order. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Dane croaked. He knew his body was going into shock, but the order gave him something to concentrate on other than the excruciating amount of pain he was in. He kept his eyes on the other man’s face as he knelt over him.

He knew his teammates were gone. When he’d first came to and looked around, he’d seen body parts everywhere. To his right was Quiz, half his head missing. To his left was Bear, his legs simply gone. His friends. The men he’d have gladly given his life for. They were gone in an instant.

Everything had happened so quickly. One moment he’d been sitting in the Humvee, on the lookout for hidden explosives, and the next he was lying on the desert floor, one arm trapped beneath the tangled mess of metal that used to be the vehicle he’d been riding in. Dane had no idea how he’d survived when carnage was all around him.

More importantly, why.

The man at his side and his comrades had appeared out of nowhere. The air had been silent and Dane’s ears were ringing from the explosion, and suddenly the other men were there. They weren’t wearing uniforms, instead dressed in black from head to toe. Their hair was longer than was acceptable in the Army and they all had beards that partially hid their facial features. Dane would’ve been worried he was about to be kidnapped by ISIS again, except for the fact the man kneeling over him had a distinct American accent. He knew as soon as the man spoke, they were like him. Delta Force. The good guys.

“Fletch, Hollywood, get on this side. Blade and Coach, the other. I need you to lift slow and easy, no sudden moves. Beatle and Ghost, once the truck is off, pull him out fast, but controlled. Got it?”

All six murmured their agreement and got into place. The man who’d taken charge leaned over Dane and looked him square in the eyes. Dane briefly noticed the big-ass scar on the man’s face, but he was in too much pain and shock for it to really register. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I think you know we’re sitting ducks here, so we need to change venues. We can’t do that with you takin’ a nap under the truck though.” He grinned, as if they were shooting the shit in a bar back in the States. “So we’ll get this Humvee off, then package you up and get the fuck outta dodge. I’m not gonna lie. It’s gonna hurt. Like a motherfucker.”

“What can I do to help?” Dane asked, gritting his teeth.

“Honestly? The only thing you need to do is keep quiet. Me and my team will take care of everything else.”

Dane swallowed hard and nodded once. He didn’t like it, but at the moment he was useless. There was no way he was getting out of there without them. He didn’t know where they’d come from, but in his line of work, you never looked a gift horse in the mouth.

“What’s your name?” Dane croaked out.


Dane couldn’t help the wry grin that spread over his face. “Appropriate.”

The right side of Truck’s lips quirked up in a lopsided grin. The man had a full beard like his teammates, but the large, gnarly scar along the left side of his face was still clearly visible. Facial hair wasn’t growing over the scar, and it left a large swath of skin showing through the beard. “Yours?”

“Fish,” Dane told him through gritted teeth.

“Well, Fish, you think you’re gonna be able to stay quiet? I’ve got some morphine and can knock you out if you don’t think you can do it. It’s your call.”

“I won’t make a sound, but a bit to take the edge off wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Dane said. He’d never been in as much pain as he was right now. Not even when he’d spent a few days as a guest of ISIS. They’d beaten the shit out of him and his teammates, but that had been a walk in the park compared to this. As much as he wouldn’t mind being drugged to the gills so he wouldn’t have to deal with everything, he’d much rather know what the hell was going on around him. If these were going to be his last moments on Earth, he wanted to be awake and aware. Probably a stupid move, but he’d never claimed to be the smartest man around.

Truck didn’t waste any time or question him more, he simply nodded and turned to one of the others and gave him a chin lift. A dose of morphine was quickly injected into Dane’s body and the team moved themselves into their assigned positions to lift the Humvee.