Loving Leisl (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Green Beret Book 2) Read online

  Loving Leisl (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)

  Green Beret Series Book II

  Michele GWYNN

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  From the Author

  Books by Bestselling Author Michele E. Gwynn

  Untitled

  Untitled

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2019 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Cover by JC Clarke, The Graphics Shed

  Editing: M.E. Gwynn

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Special Forces: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  About the book

  Sergeant Leisl Craig spent her life fighting for everything she'd earned including becoming a combat nurse—alone. Then cancer threatened to take it all away. Until now, she never needed anyone...and then she met Doc.

  For Sergeant Major Jason Lee Gordon, codename Doc, a Green Beret medic in a tight-knit special operations group, life happened, and he rolled with it. The easy-going charmer only ever had to flash his dimples and women lined up outside his door, already half in love with the caring Doc. But casual hookups were growing old after seeing his friend and team leader, Outlaw, fall in love. He’d begun to think he’d never find his special someone until a sniper ambush brings him to a quiet, troubled nurse.

  Focused on her own pain, she is unimpressed by the handsome soldier’s overtures, ignoring him as she worries what will become of her, of her career, and Pooch. But instead of being put off when she rebuffs him, he finds himself more intrigued, especially after overhearing Leisl pouring out her heart to a stray dog. Disturbed by her plight, he can’t walk away. Something about her pulls him in and Doc begins an all-out charm offensive to win over the red-haired nurse.

  When the base is attacked by terrorists and his mission goes south, events unfold leading to secrets, old and new, that can tear apart their budding relationship. Can Doc accept her past and convince her to fight for a future together?

  Chapter 1

  She held the printout in her hands. They trembled a little. This had been happening off and on for the past two months. It was the reason for the piece of paper clutched between her fingers, that, and the ear ringing issues. The purple ink was smudged in a few spots, but the words written across the top were, unfortunately, legible. Positive. The numbers in the columns would’ve looked like Greek to most people, but to Leisl Craig, they added up to one conclusion, one only a doctor—or a nurse like herself—would understand. Despite that, disbelief knocked the wind out of her and she failed to respond when the alarm went off.

  “Leisl!”

  She looked up. Tech Sergeant Angie Nelson stood in the doorway, irritation showing on her round face. Angie Nelson was tall for a woman standing at 5’ 11”. Her ebony skin glowed, needing no makeup. She wore her hair shaved close to her scalp, a female army crew cut, and it looked great on her. She was a beautiful woman, a competent nurse, and a friend, but now, the look she was directing at Leisl showed she was clearly annoyed.

  “What?” The alarm finally penetrated her mental fog. Incoming wounded.

  “Girl, read your mail later. We’ve got to go!” Angie turned, running down the hall towards the medical intake area where choppers brought in soldiers injured in battle. The surrounding tents housed the medical staff quarters, a makeshift clinic, hospital ward, and a surgical center all built on an army base in Kuwait. Medical Base Camp 10.

  Leisl folded the printout and shoved it under the thin mattress that served as her bed. She grabbed her hat with the red cross on a white field prominently displayed front and center, shoving it onto her head and hustled out of the bedroom catching up to Angie outside as the first of several medical evacuation choppers arrived. There was no time to sulk. Injured men needed her, and for however much time she had left to tend to them, she would do so. She just prayed her hands would hold steady and her hearing would not fail her. There was time later to inform her commander and to face her own fears.

  Dust kicked up as the first of two helicopters landed. Leisl joined Angie who was crouched next to Major Charles S. Ross, the camp trauma surgeon. He was one of three surgeons currently assigned to base, but he outranked the other two both in military and medical experience. Major Ross was counting down the last six months of duty. He would soon be retiring and going into private practice in Virginia. He was the one who diagnosed her condition. A month ago, he noticed Leisl’s trembling hands during surgery. That along with two instances in which she lost control of her hands dropping a surgical instruments tray tipped him off that something was wrong. He’d ordered her to come in for an exam. That’s when she confessed to some loss of hearing on her left side with ringing in that ear. He’d ordered the tests then. The results had finally come in and it was only that morning Major Ross had delivered the news.

  “It’s a Shwannoma, Leisl.” He handed her the printout from the MRI and the bloodwork.

  All the blood left her face as Leisl went pale. “A brain tumor?”

  Major Ross nodded. “Yes, but the good news is we’re catching it early. It’s treatable. These usually respond very well to radiation and chemotherapy, can even be surgically removed if all markers indicate it’s in a safe area. The sooner you begin addressing this, the better.” He gave her a pointed look.

  Dread flooded her body making her queasy. Chemotherapy. Radiation. Surgery. Cancer. She had a tickin
g time bomb inside her head. Leisl swallowed and looked up. “But I’m only twenty-eight.”

  “Cancer doesn’t give a rat’s ass how old you are, and that’s if the tumor is malignant. For that matter, tumors don’t give a damn about your age either. You know that.” Major Ross’s voice gentled. He reached out taking her hand in his. “I know it’s a lot. It’s damned scary, but Leisl, you have to jump on this fast or else it will be every bit as bad as you’re thinking. You can’t afford to procrastinate. Time is all any cancer needs. Don’t give it any and you’ll beat it.”

  She swallowed the lump sitting like a large, heavy stone in her throat. Her green eyes stung with unshed tears. Everything she’d worked for, all the obstacles she’d overcome to get where she was, an RN in the United States Army, a combat nurse, for God’s sake, would be lost if she didn’t get out in front of it. But for once, she didn’t feel confident she could do this as she’d done everything else in life—alone.

  “Leisl?” Major Ross prompted. “I’ll go with you to the Colonel’s office. We’ll tell him together. You won’t lose everything,” he said, correctly guessing some of her anxiety. “We take care of our own. You can beat this thing and be back on active duty in no time.”

  She cleared her throat, sucking in a deep breath. “Sir, yes sir.”

  “Good. I’ll make the appointment and let you know the time. Until then, don’t stress. It’s not helpful. Also, I’m going to get you started on some meds to control the hand tremors, just until we get you in with an oncologist stateside.”

  Leisl nodded. “Okay.”

  He wrote out the prescription which she’d taken over to the pharmacy tent. From there, she’d gone back to her room to rest. Her shift didn’t begin until 1600. She’d tried sleeping but she was restless thinking about everything that could go wrong. Even with the best possible outcome, she was most likely going to be very sick over the next six months, surgery or not. The radiation alone would burn her healthy cells. Where the tumor was located near her left ear made permanent hearing loss on that side a real possibility. After radiation, the chemotherapy would begin, and her hair would fall out, no food would stay down, and the sweats and shakes would knock her on her ass. And she’d be alone.

  She didn’t usually allow herself any pity parties, but today, she put that rule aside letting grief fill her heart. Tears welled in her eyes and fell unchecked. Quietly, she cried into her pillow, angry at the mother who’d chosen heroin over her own daughter after her father died. She’d been only five years old when Bernard Craig passed. A bus driver in West Virginia, he’d lost control on the icy road when another car veered into his lane to avoid hitting a deer. Five people died on the bus that day, her dad included. Her mother, Laura, couldn’t accept his death and in her desperation to escape her new reality, began drinking. When drinking didn’t numb the pain enough, she began using cocaine, and the cocaine led to heroine. She overdosed two days before Leisl’s sixth birthday. With no other close relatives, she’d been remanded to the state bouncing between orphanages and foster care. Some of the things she’d suffered in those years left scars that would never heal. But she didn’t talk about it. Never answered anyone’s direct questions about her life or family. She’d simply persevered, hell-bent on getting on her own two feet and as far away from state care as possible. It struck her as quite ironic when she turned eighteen and enlisted in the military. From state care to federal care. At the time, it seemed her only way out. She was right. It saved her. The army gave her a life; a job, an education, a career. And now, just as everything was going well, tragedy reared its ugly head once again.

  It was then she’d pulled the lab results out and sat up, staring at the rows of numbers, the mysterious codes and body chemical levels that said she had a brain tumor. A Shwannoma. She’d have to look that up online.

  And then the alarm sounded, and Angie was irritated with her for failing to respond as was her job.

  A chopper landed and a group of heavily-armed men jumped out. Two wearing helmets bearing medical insignia lifted the gurney and released the wheels, pulling it towards the surgical tent. A man lay screaming and cussing. Another man led the way, a tall soldier with a Captain’s rank on his sleeve. His penetrating blue eyes found Major Ross who met him halfway. Behind the tall captain, another soldier stood over the patient, his arm shoved between the patient’s legs. A towel soaked with blood hid his hand, but Leisl could see the tourniquet tied tightly around the patient’s upper thigh. Her eyes took it all in as a loud ringing began to chime in her left ear. She was sure she didn’t hear them right.

  “I got you man. It’s gonna be okay,” he said.

  “Goddammit, Doc, don’t you let go! I need ‘em both. I need both my goddamned balls. Jesus,” the patient screamed.

  “And you’ll have them both. I’ve got you, Eastwood. I’m being as gentle as I can but if you ever tell another living soul I had to hold your balls I’m going to castrate your ass myself.”

  Major Ross raised an eyebrow. The captain blew out a breath. “Sniper fire caught him in the left thigh and groin. We got the first wound staunched, but the groin injury, well, that’s beyond Doc’s purview.”

  Major Ross chuckled. “Alright, then, Captain.” He turned, addressing the patient, “Let’s get you inside and assess this,” he said. “I’m sure your medic would like his hand back.”

  “You’re damned right I would. But not until you assure me my buddy’s nuts are stabilized. I made a promise. No nut left behind.”

  Eastwood clutched Major Ross’s sleeve, the effects of the morphine erasing the last of his inhibitions. “You gotta save ‘em, Doctor. I need both my testicles. My momma brought me into this world whole and she’ll whoop my ass if I lose my nuts. And I wanna have babies,” he whined, tearing up. “Beautiful little babies with tiny camo onesies.”

  “Nelson, Craig, let’s get the Sergeant into the bay.”

  Angie came up beside the one called Doc. “I’m just gonna ease right in beneath your hand. As soon as I give the go-ahead, let go.”

  “What?” Eastwood screeched. “Doc, you promised!” He reached up gripping Doc’s flak jacket, panic in his eyes.

  Doc patted his shoulder with his free hand. “And I’ve kept that promise, buddy. I promised I’d hold on until we got you to help. This is help.” He pointed at Angie.

  “Sugar, no worries. You’re in good hands.” Angie slid her fingers beneath Doc’s. “One, two,”

  “Shit!” Eastwood cringed, his eyes shut tight.

  “Three!” Angie’s hand slid into place as Doc’s released.

  Doc backed up, flexing his fingers to ease the cramping. “See, man? Was that smooth or what?”

  “Is it over?” Eastwood asked, cracking one eye.

  Angie chuckled. “Told you. This ain’t my first time.”

  Leisl got into position next to Major Ross. “She’s handled her fair share, sergeant, and we’re going to do all we can to keep you intact.” She took his wrist and checked his pulse as the gurney wheeled inside the surgical tent.

  Sergeant Major Jason Gordon, known to his Special Ops Group as Doc, stepped out of the way. Eastwood was now in their hands. Next to him, Captain Nathan James Oliver, aka Outlaw, stood staring after them as the double doors swung shut, the expression on his face pained.

  “I know,” said Doc, absently reaching down to adjust himself. “I’m feeling his pain too. Can’t believe he nearly got his nuts shot off. Damn.”

  “He’ll be okay. Major Ross is the best and he’s got the best surgical team to help.” Nate swallowed. “I admit, though, I’m damned glad I don’t have to tell Emma I almost lost a nut.”

  Doc chuckled. “The bun’s already in the oven, Nate. I think your junk did its job.”

  “Yeah, I know. Six weeks to go but you can best be sure, Emma will want another baby down the line.”

  The two men made their way towards the surgical tent. “I’m pretty sure Eastwood will want one of his own one day, or the woman w
ho unfortunately hooks up with him will.” Doc looked at his hand. It was covered in blood. “I’ll never be able to masturbate with this hand again after holding another man’s balls.”

  Nate chuckled. “Sure you will. You’re left-handed.”

  “Ambidextrous, and he’s my backup, man!” Doc wiggled his bloody fingers.

  Captain Oliver shook his head. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then I need you to get into sterile scrub and keep an eye on Eastwood. We can’t have him babbling during surgery and spilling classified info.”

  Doc frowned. “Goddamned State Department rules.”

  Chapter 2

  Eastwood's surgery ran three hours. Doc stood by in the corner watching as Major Ross, with help from his two nurses, carefully brought his buddy’s testicles back together.

  The ebony-skinned nurse, the one who’d taken over holding Eastwood’s gonads, was competent beyond measure, but the second nurse, the quiet one, caught his attention. She was already in full scrub when he’d entered the surgical bay. The yellow paper apron over the top of her green surgical scrubs was matched by the head-covering the kept her hair secured. When she’d met them outside at the chopper, she’d been wearing a different hat, but now, one lock of hair escaped from behind her ear, the color of which was a beacon he had never been able to resist. Red.