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Olivia could tell that the man that entered was different from everyone else on Nightshade. The uniform was different but obviously American, and he wore a helmet with scopes on it, or night vision goggles. He also carried a Colt M4A1, which Special Forces preferred. Grinning at Baylee, he held his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.

“I’m American,” the man said, raspy voice strong, and with a hint of twang. “Thought you all might want to get out of here.”

Olivia blinked and tried to take in the words. She was numb at this point, dealing with the pain trying to eat her and the shock of what had gone on. The entire past six hours were a horrific blur in her mind.

A second man came in behind him, then a third. They were all dressed differently, but similar, in that they all wore American military attire, but different pieces. Were they SEALs?

Baylee was saying something to them, but Olivia was too far away to hear what she said. When all eyes turned to her, though, she had a feeling she knew. The man in the lead walked over to her little cave and knelt in front of her. Carefully, he reached out and took the weapon from her arms. “You don’t need this anymore, Lieutenant. We’re going to take care of you.”

Olivia blinked, looking down at her fingers wrapped around the barrel of the weapon. They were clutched so tight. “But what if they come back?” she whispered.

The man gave her a gentle smile as he pulled it away, and his brown eyes were earnest. “We’ve made sure they won’t come back. And the other lieutenant has as well.” He nodded his chin toward the doorway. “My name is Ghost, and my team and I are going to get you out of here, okay?”

She stared at the man, his words sinking in, before she nodded. “Yes. Are there others? Please tell me we aren’t the only ones that survived.”

He nodded quickly. “There are others. We have medics working on them now.”

“Baylee,” Olivia said, a little louder, “can you go help them? Check on the team.”

Baylee looked at her for a long moment, then straightened her beaten body. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once Baylee left, she looked at the soldier kneeling in front of her. Her composure weakened. “We tried,” she said, her voice tight. “But they came in and shot everyone not medical personnel. I don’t know what’s happened to my people.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she knew it was shock.

“I know,” the man said, voice low. He reached out a hand and took her own, squeezing. “It will take us a while to figure it all out. Right now, though, we need to get you in the air and out of the country.”

A tear dripped down her cheek, then another. Olivia was shocked at her loss of composure, but she couldn’t seem to stop them from falling. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry,” she whispered.

The soldier leaned forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful not to jostle her leg. The hug hurt because of all the metal crap and armor he was wearing, but she needed the moment to get her emotions under control. She pulled back, looking up at him. “Thank you, Ghost. Are you guys SEALs?”

He scoffed. “Those weanies? Nah…” He turned to shove the gurneys out of the way and clear a path to the door.

A glimmer of humor rolled through her. Who would dare call SEALs weanies?

Delta.

* * *

Within half an hour, Olivia started to hear helicopter rotors overhead. They really had saved Nightshade. It had to have been a massive undertaking, country-wide, to liberate all the bases that had been under attack. And they were down the list in order of importance.

She was very carefully lifted onto a gurney and strapped down. Baylee added some sedative to her IV and moved her carefully into an area of the ward that had been cleared of the dead. The bloodstains were there, though, solid reminders of what had occurred.

A man more massive than the rest checked on her, introducing himself as Truck, a medic. It was obvious why he was called that, because he was so big. But there was a gnarly scar down his left cheek. It looked fairly fresh, though the wound was sealed over. His touch was gentle as he checked her tourniquet and the bandages underneath it.

“You’re on the first ride out of here, LT,” he said gruffly, leaning over to look her in the eyes.

“It’s that bad, huh?” She knew she was on a definite timeline. If the leg didn’t come off soon, it would turn gangrenous, and she would go septic.

“Yes, ma’am,” the soldier told her reluctantly, “but you have a clear path out of here. We’re going to take care of the rest of your team.”

Olivia blinked, a lassitude beginning to roll over her, but she reached out to him. She reached out to brush her hand across his scar. “Baylee was attacked, and her stitches need redone before she scars too bad. I did my best, but I was working under duress…” She lost track of her words for a second. “The bastards raped her, but she killed them.”

Truck turned to look behind himself, then he leaned back over her. “I’ll get her to take a minute. She’s working on the wounded right now, and she probably needs that focus right now.”

Olivia nodded a little. “Rex was shot, and Trent.”

“Rex is doing what he can, as well. Trent didn’t make it.”