The document in Davidson's possession overrode the federal law prohibiting military personnel from operating on civilian soil. Which allowed Lopez to fly them wherever the hell they wanted. In fairness, it had been issued in case the chase after the live munitions had carried them past the base's borders, not to get Brandt to his wedding on time, but hey, Brandt would deal with his commander once he slipped that ring onto Rebecca's finger.
With a displeased grunt, the pilot rose from his chair, handing the stick over to Lopez. The helicopter lurched and bucked at the transfer and Lopez demanding maximum speed ASAP.
"Sorry, folks," Lopez yelled over the whine of the engine. "A little learning curve."
"More like performance anxiety," the pilot grumbled, although even he threw a hand out and grabbed a hold as the helicopter nearly jumped forward responding to Lopez's urging.
"How long?" Lopez asked to no one in particular.
"Thirteen minutes," Talli answered.
"Pshhh," Lopez snorted. "I thought this was going to be some kind of challenge."
With the cathedral's tall steeple nothing but a blip in the distance, Brandt was pretty damned sure getting them there on time was in fact going to be a challenge, but he didn't bother voicing it. Lopez would just snort again and take offense.
Levont turned to Brandt, beaming. "Like I said. Off-"
"You really think we're done?" Brandt asked, shoving a package into the point man's hands.
The rest of the men answered for him. "Hell. No."
CHAPTER 2.
The Cathedral of St. John the Baptist 2:58 p.m. (EST) Rebecca looked to Bunny as the younger woman placed a hand on hers. Rebecca hadn't even realized she had been chewing on a very well-manicured finger until Bunny glanced to the digit.
"Sorry," Rebecca murmured, pulling her hand down from her mouth.
"Hey, it's your wedding pictures," Bunny teased. "If you don't mind a few chipped nails, then I don't."
Activity buzzed in the crowded hallway. It was like a hurricane of chiffon had been bottled in the passage. Rebecca couldn't help but sneak a peak around the corner. The huge white altar was still unmanned except for the priest, who, for the thousandth, time glanced to his watch. Like the guy had anything better to do right now.
"What are we going to do?" Holly asked, the teenager treble replacing her usual "I am older than I look" tone.
"I don't..." Mrs. Brandt, for once, seemed at a loss for words.
If Brandt did miss their wedding, Rebecca felt way sadder for his mother than she did even for herself. The poor woman had been through a sham marriage, embarrassing annulment, and now a no-show groom. Mrs. Brandt's social standing might never recover in this bastion of Southern traditions.
Then something sounded overhead. Rebecca craned to look up the tall bell tower. She could have sworn she heard something on the roof. There it was again. Rebecca would recognize a man repelling onto a roof any day.
She looked over to Bunny, who smiled back. They were here. Their men.
"Let's get this wedding started," Rebecca announced.
"Deary, what do you mean?" Mrs. Brandt asked, clearly flustered.
"Tell them to strike up the organ music," Bunny ordered an usher. When he balked, she gave the young man a shove. "Now."
Her voice had enough authority to override Mrs. Brandt's shrill protests, and the guy was on his way. Guess surviving multiple RPG attacks could give a redhead some confidence.
"There's no time to explain," Rebecca said to Mrs. Brandt as she adjusted her bouquet. "Brandt's here, so get those bridesmaids down the aisle."
"But there's no groomsmen to lead them," Mrs. Brandt protested.
Rebecca squeezed her soon-to-be mother-in-law's arm. "This is a new century. Girl power and all. I'm sure they can make it to the altar on their own."
"Oh dear." Mrs. Brandt sighed, clearly on the edge of tears. "This is not how things are supposed to go."
"Just imagine if Vincent pulls this off," Rebecca encouraged. "It will make the morning paper."
A flicker of a smile crossed Mrs. Brandt's lips as the bridal march began, resonating throughout the church. The woman turned to her daughters. "Girls, what are you waiting for? You know the drill."
Brandt's sisters, clearly accustomed to taking orders from their matriarch, lined up expertly, ready to go. Holly was the first. All those teenage nerves disappeared as she stepped onto the red carpet that lined the aisle between the pews. The others followed, with Bunny bringing up the rear.
Next it was Brandt's young cousins as the flower girl and ring bearer. Unfortunately, there still weren't any men.
"They're still not here," Mrs. Brandt hissed.
"Just take your seat," Rebecca encouraged, needing the woman to head down the side hallway and slip quietly into her seat up front.
"Deary," Mrs. Brandt said, overriding Rebecca, "you have to move your engagement ring to your other hand."
"I hadn't-" Rebecca said as the woman pulled the ring from her left hand.
"He's got to have somewhere to put the wedding ring, doesn't he?"
"I wouldn't have thought of that," Rebecca admitted as Mrs. Brandt put the ring onto her right finger.
"That's what family is for," Mrs. Brandt said with tears in her eyes, although Rebecca felt they were tears of joy this time. At least she hoped they were.
"Thank you," Rebecca said, giving the woman a hug. There hadn't been much said of Rebecca's lack of relatives. She'd lost her parents in college, and they had been a small family to start with.
Finally, with Mrs. Brandt on her way, Rebecca looked to Mr. Brandt. The reedlike man in a dark-gray suit. How he got next to her, Rebecca had no idea. The man always seemed at the periphery of his wife's entourage yet was there if you needed him. And Rebecca needed him now. The only other man that might have qualified to give her away, Dr. Archibald Lochum, had succumbed over a year ago. So Brandt's father had agreed to do the honors, or at least Mrs. Brandt had offered his services.
"Ready?" Rebecca asked.
He simply nodded.
If Rebecca thought his son was a man of few words, she clearly hadn't met Brandt's father. As a matter of fact, the guy could be mute for all she knew. But none of that mattered. Not as the wedding march played. She took Mr. Brandt's arm and followed him from the shelter of the hallway and stepped out into the church proper.
Most brides would be greeted by the sight of their groom standing, waiting for their arrival. Instead, Rebecca had a church full of freaked-out guests. Anxiety, worry, and even a tinge of recrimination painted their faces. Rebecca's belly started fluttering. Could she be wrong? Could this crowd be right? Would Brandt stand her up?
Then she remembered the look in his eye, his bloody eye, as Brandt proposed-for the second time. His fervent promise to her.
In that moment, Rebecca felt sorry for the doubting crowd. Clearly, they didn't know the determination of her man.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," Brandt cursed under his breath as he hung onto the church's ledge with his fingernails. This was the fifth goddamned window they had tried to open, to no avail.
"Sarge," Lopez suggested, "we're going to have to smash one."
Great. Now not only was he late for his own wedding, but he would have to destroy divine property.
"Wait!" Davidson yelled. "I've got it!"
As soon as the window popped open, the men poured through in various states of dress. Thinking ahead, Davidson had packed their tuxedoes. What they hadn't counted on was having to get dressed on an extremely bumpy helicopter ride streaking over Charleston.
"Boss," Lopez said, "that tie won't do."
Despite being the last one to be able to don his tux, Lopez was by far the most put together. Guess it wasn't a surprise, though. It was Lopez.
The corporal trotted backward, fixing Brandt's tie as they hurried down the hall.
"Enough," Brandt announced as they reached the steps down to the altar. "She's seen me far worse."
Talli chuckled. "At least you don't have a bullet in your belly."
"Exactly," Brandt agreed as he went to make his way down the steps, but Levont stopped him.
"No, Sarge, we go in reverse order," the point man said.
"What in the hell difference does it-"
"For the video, man," Levont insisted, nodding toward Lopez. Then the point man straightened his tux and headed down the steps. Talli followed close behind.
Lopez lingered at the landing. The first time Rebecca and Brandt had been engaged, it had been a no-brainer that Lopez would be the best man. After that stunt where the corporal didn't bother to inform Brandt that he, too, had slept with his supposed baby momma? Lopez had kind of lost the whole best man gig.
Davidson shifted from foot to foot. "Sarge, I don't mind, let Lopez-"
"No offense, Ricky, but you let me marry another woman," Brandt said to his corporal.
"No offense taken," Lopez stated, heading down the steps after the other groomsmen.
Which left Brandt and Davidson. At one time, he'd thought the younger man to be a brother. Not just in arms, but in his heart. Then, shortly thereafter, Brandt wanted to kill the son of a bitch. Yet here they were now. Despite all of that, they were standing here, ready to say his vows before his family, and God, he was glad for Davidson to be by his side.
"Thank you," Brandt said, putting his hand out.
Davidson gulped, putting his scarred hand in Brandt's. "No, sir. Thank you."
Brandt turned away before they both got all emotional. Davidson led the way, hurrying down the steps. Brandt was certain he wasn't the proper number of steps behind his best man, but seriously, he didn't give a crap anymore. He just wanted to get to the damned altar before Rebecca walked. Nobody would blame her.
The music was still playing, so that had to be good. He couldn't tell how far along the procession she was, as all the guests were standing, blocking his view of the aisle. A smattering of clapping went up as Davidson took his place. Brandt made his way past the men and stepped onto what he thought his spot at the altar should be, when a cheer erupted from the entire crowd.
Guess they didn't have much faith the groom was going to make it.
Then he looked down the aisle to the angel floating toward him.
Rebecca. She'd had faith. She'd trusted he'd be there.
Breath caught in his throat as if he'd been punched in the solar plexus. She was a vision. An absolute vision. And she was his.
Rebecca felt tears spring to her eyes. Bunny would be so upset.
The sight of Brandt in a rumpled tux, though a bleeding cut on his forehead and knuckles raw, was everything she had ever dreamed of. Who knew where the injuries came from? All she cared about was that he was here. Ready to marry her.
The rest of the walk up to the altar was a blur. Literally a blur as tears spilled down her cheek. Mr. Brandt made certain her hand was firmly in his son's before the older man backed away.
Brandt helped her up the small step to the altar. She clutched it as tightly as she had in their mad race down the Alpine avalanche, needing his strength to stay upright. The improbability and perfection of the moment took her breath away.
No matter she didn't like her dress or the fact that the bridesmaids looked like baby peaches or that she didn't have any family to witness the event. The world shrunk down to just her and Brandt.
The priest began speaking as Brandt urged her to face the clergyman. Since they'd had to cancel the rehearsal last night because neither she nor Brandt was in the country, the protocol was all a mystery to Rebecca. Her future mother-in-law had tried to explain it to her, but anything that happened before Brandt burst onto the altar was gone. Just gone.
How could she think when the dreams she'd had since she was a child were suddenly coming true. Okay, fine, they had to go through a gauntlet of bombs, bullets, and ballistic missiles to get here, but here they were now.
Nothing could spoil this day.
Nothing except the sound of feet landing on the steeple of the church. Someone was repelling onto the cathedral's roof.
Rebecca's head swung around to her fiance. "Did you invite anyone else?"
In answer, Brandt's hand flew to his hip, only there wasn't a gun there.
Then the vaulted ceiling above their heads exploded.
Brandt threw himself on top of Rebecca, shielding her from the debris. Why the fuck wasn't he armed? And why the hell hadn't he posted snipers outside? He had two right here, standing next to him. A lot of good that did.
Well, it did do a little good since the rest of his men did come armed. Davidson was firing up into the Charleston sky as he yelled for the civilians to evacuate, but who knew who heard him above the terrified screams?
No one needed much prodding, though, as the guests fled the kill zone. Tucking Rebecca's head down tighter under him, Brandt looked to his sisters, who scattered from the altar and joined his parents in the front row.
"Go!" he yelled to his father. "Get them out!"
His father seemed hesitant, though. After serving two tours in the Gulf, you could see him want to help. But given who had blown that roof, there would be no help.
"Now!" Brandt bellowed, jolting his father out of his indecision. In a flurry of peach and gray, his family rushed off.