Danger Close (25 page)

“Copy that.” Wade took a deep breath and continued forward, his muscles drawing tight as he braced himself for what was coming. The tactical vest he wore wouldn’t save him if he was slower on the draw than Rahim. Wade had never seen him miss anything he aimed at. And right now it could be Rahim who had his crosshairs lined up on Wade’s face.

His boots made hollow thuds against the steel deck despite his effort to walk softly, and to him they seemed to echo far too loudly.

“Sniper at your one o’clock!”

Wade instinctively dropped to one knee and swung the barrel of his rifle around just as a shot rang out and buried itself in the deck a foot away from his left boot.

“
Shit
.” Wade jerked back and took cover behind the container.

“I don’t have a clear shot, but he’s pinned down in there,” one of the other snipers reported. “You gonna move in and trap him?”

That would just end badly for everyone. Rahim would kill any and all of them he could before he died, but it was
him
he wanted more than anything. Even more than the chance of escaping alive. “No, give me time to draw him out,” Wade ordered him. These guys were all pros and would hold off on taking a kill shot unless it was the only available option left. Wade prayed it wouldn’t have to happen. They needed to know where the bomb was. Time was running out. “Anderson, you see him?” he asked one of the guys who’d gone around the other side of the containers.

“Negative. Has to still be in that corridor though.”

“Copy.” He spoke to the man behind him. “Cover me, but give me some room to flush him out.”

“Roger that.”

Even though he had plenty of backup and even though he’d mentally prepared himself to face this, forcing himself to move out into the open went against every one of his instincts. His mind and body were screaming at him to stay behind cover.

His sense of duty wouldn’t allow it. Rahim was
his
responsibility and no one else’s.

Taking several deep breaths to psych himself up, he got to his feet and mentally reviewed his next move. Calling on every bit of strength and speed he had, he overrode the warnings blaring in his brain and burst out from behind the container. He took two running strides and dove. Bullets thudded deep into the steel deck as he rolled and scrambled behind cover of the next container.

“Are you hit?” one of his teammates demanded over the earpiece.

“Negative,” he panted, though it had been damn close. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer against his sternum and the adrenaline was pumping fast and hard through his bloodstream. Only two more rows of containers separated him and Rahim.

He got to his feet again, ignoring the tremor in his muscles as he made his way quickly down the corridor to the other side. “Coming out on your end, Anderson,” he whispered. Rahim could only cover one end of the corridor at a time. Wade could only hope that he hadn’t anticipated his latest move.
How do you want this to go, brother? Just you and me?

He was putting everything on the line, betting that Rahim would be unable to resist the lure of going one-on-one with him. Too much hinged on this capture. Wade was ready to finish this.

On another desperate burst of speed he tore out from behind cover and sprinted for the next row of containers. Sunlight and shadow flickered past as he ran. A burst of rounds blasted the air. Two tore past him close enough for him to hear the whistle of them and plowed into the container inches above his head. He was focused on the edge of the next container, timing the moment he would dive behind it when a sudden flash of movement came ahead of him from the shadows.

“He’s at your twelve o’clock,” a sniper reported.

Everything went into slo-mo.

Rahim emerged out of the shadows, his silhouette outlined against the rust-colored containers for a split second as he jumped to the deck. His boots hit with a solid thud. He turned slightly toward Wade, his expression hardening when they made eye contact. Both of them had their rifles up. Rahim fired as he whirled. Wade ducked but not in time to avoid the bullet that slammed into the lower portion of his vest. The round punched into his body armor like a sledgehammer, knocking the air from his lungs and dropping him to his knees. Pain tore through him as he let the momentum carry him to his belly. Fighting to drag air into his starving lungs, Wade brought his rifle muzzle up and fired two rounds at Rahim’s running legs.

His aim was off slightly but he still managed to wing him in the calf. Rahim crashed down face-first on the deck. Over the roaring in his ears, Wade hauled himself to his feet and raced after him. Everything slowed even more. His focus narrowed to his quarry and the weapon in his hands.

Forcing himself to stop to steady his aim, Wade tucked the stock into his shoulder and pushed out a wheezy breath as he squeezed the trigger. A metallic ping rang out. Rahim yelled in pain as the rifle fell from his grip and clattered to the deck. Wade skidded to a stop and dropped as Rahim spun back to get it, his right hand bleeding from the bullet wound.

“Put your hands up,” Wade called out in Pashto.

Rahim’s vivid blue eyes flashed with raw fury.

“Holding on target,” the sniper added. Wade blocked out the distraction and the knowledge that his teammates were all waiting for the order to engage, dying to get into the action.

“You’re surrounded,” Wade continued, his voice a breathless rasp as he fought past the pain throbbing in his belly. Only a few dozen yards stood between Rahim and the stern of the ship. The bastard knew he was surrounded, that his only option for surviving was to surrender.

They both knew he’d never do it. Still, Wade had to try.

They’d narrowed down the bomb’s location to one of seven possibilities. But they didn’t know which one, and they didn’t know how long they had to find and disarm it. If Rahim planned to do the suicide by cop routine, Wade had to somehow get that vital piece of intel from him first. “There’s no way out. Give it up, brother.” The last word came out by habit.

Rahim stared back at him, pure hatred in that familiar, chilling gaze. His lips peeled back over his teeth in a feral smile that said he was looking forward to what would happen next. “Just you and me finish this,” he rasped back. “And you’re not my
brother
.”

A chill snaked down Wade’s spine at the venom in those words. Before he could take a single step Rahim’s uninjured hand flashed down and came up with a pistol. Wade reacted instantly, dropping to one knee to get out of the line of fire. A searing pain hit his left forearm a split second before he squeezed the trigger again, knocking off his aim just enough that the bullet skimmed Rahim’s right upper arm as he whirled and raced for the stern.

He distantly registered the blood trickling down his arm and dripping from his wrist. A taunting shot. Rahim knew the leverage he had over Wade and the others, and that all the firepower in the world couldn’t get it from him if he died.

Rahim wanted this up close and personal, the two of them locked in a death struggle. And as it was the only way Wade could get what he needed, he had no choice but to give it to him. Erin’s face flashed through his mind. Her warm, loving smile lighting up the darkest parts of his heart and banishing the ghosts and regrets he carried with him. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get back to her.

Rage and icy determination filled him as he stared at Rahim.

Let’s do this
.

Letting out a guttural roar, Wade surged to his feet and tore after his enemy.

****

They needed him alive.

They’d confirmed it the moment Rahim had taken that first shot and no one had returned fire. They needed him to find out where the bomb was, and he was the only way to make that happen.

Grim resolve curved Rahim’s lips into a smile as he ran. Even if he survived what came next, he would never reveal the bomb’s location, not under any form of torture.

It didn’t matter that he was outmanned and outgunned. Even as they congratulated themselves on cornering him, he had still won.

With that burden lifted from him, he felt suddenly lighter, stronger. His boots pounded against the steel deck, the reverberations ringing up through his wounded leg, in time with the throb in his bleeding hand. He barely felt the pain. He was more than ready to die and become a martyr for Islam. And Allah was rewarding him by ensuring he would get his final wish—a battle to the death with the man who had betrayed him.

The thud of rapid footfalls behind him told him Sandberg was close and gaining. It didn’t matter. They weren’t going to shoot him in the head. Weren’t going to risk wounding him badly enough for him to die. They were willing to allow Sandberg to sacrifice himself, and likely many others, in the hopes that they could capture him. The hairs on the backs of his arms stood on end as goosebumps raced across his skin. Sixty feet away, the stern of the ship loomed. He raced straight toward it without slowing, anticipating the moment when Sandberg caught up to him.

Another shot rang out. Pain exploded in his left shoulder. The impact knocked him off his feet. He gritted his teeth against a cry of pain as black dots swarmed his vision. His chin glanced off the deck as he sprawled out on his stomach. Rising above the agony, he rolled onto his side and reached for the pistol he’d dropped. A heartbeat later, a heavy weight slammed into him. The back of his head bounced off the steel, momentarily stunning him.

He distantly heard the clatter of a weapon then Sandberg was on him. All his reflexes kicked in, his body in full survival mode, giving him an almost supernatural strength he’d never felt before. He grabbed hold of the powerful forearm shoved against his windpipe and twisted to the side in time to avoid a hook to the jaw. Sandberg hissed in a breath as his fist connected with the deck instead, and in that split second Rahim went on the offensive. He drove his knee up, hitting Sandberg where the round had impacted the vest.

Sandberg grunted, his forearm slipping sideways off Rahim’s throat. Rahim bucked and flipped them over, reversing their positions. His weight landed hard on Sandberg and he used it to his advantage, pressing his left elbow into the wound on Sandberg’s forearm. Face turning red from the pressure around his throat, his enemy’s eyes filled with silent fury and a resolve Rahim had to respect. They heaved and twisted, bodies deadlocked as they grappled for superiority in this desperate struggle.

The pain began to bleed through the haze of rage and adrenaline. Rahim’s muscles shook with the strain.

“Where’s the bomb, asshole?” Sandberg growled in English.

It was the first time Rahim ever heard him speak it. He gritted his teeth and let out an answering snarl, enraged all over again that this man had duped him for so long. He’d trusted him, implicitly and without reservation. The pain and humiliation of it was more than he could bear. He was going to inflict it all back and then some before he died. “Fuck you,” he managed past the sudden restriction in his throat.

Feeling his strength beginning to wane, he dug down deep and twisted with all his might. An angry roar tore out of him as they rolled. Sandberg scrambled to stop them, his boots slipping on the deck. Rahim kept pushing, inching them closer and closer to the side. Finally they reached the tipping point and went over the edge. A moment’s freefall, then they hit a small platform on the rear starboard part of the ship. The impact knocked them apart and squeezed the breath from his lungs.

Move, move!

He narrowly avoided the elbow to the head as he jerked to the side. Lashing out with his boot, he connected with Sandberg’s kneecap, a spike of elation flashing through him at the man’s pained shout. Sandberg lunged for him and again Rahim rolled them, ready to take Sandberg over the edge and into the freezing gray-green water below.

The veins in Sandberg’s temples stood out as he struggled to hold him down, nostrils flared and mouth pinched into a flat, white line in the midst of that dark beard. Rahim flailed in the unbreakable grip, the pain of his wounds and the fatigue sapping his remaining strength. Sandberg’s powerful arms contracted even harder, squeezing against his windpipe, obstructing the flow of blood through his carotid arteries.

“Tell me where it is!” Sandberg demanded, his whole body quivering from the effort of holding him down.

The bomb should be close to the target already. Only minutes until it detonated.

Rahim laughed and went lax in the brutal grip.

Sandberg stilled in surprise for an instant. He shifted his weight off him, giving Rahim just enough time to snatch the knife from the sheath at his hip.

He watched Sandberg’s eyes snap toward the matte black blade, widen. He flashed out a hand to ward it off, but Rahim drove the KA-BAR upward, slicing through clothing and flesh as it ripped through Sandberg’s thigh and hip. The man yelled and caught Rahim’s wrist, wrenching it backward in a brutal grip until the bones snapped. His own howl of agony rent the air.

With his remaining strength he twisted once again. He lost his grip on the knife. Ignoring it, he focused solely on pushing Sandberg the remaining few inches off the platform. Their gazes locked. Rahim read the determination in Sandberg’s face, the rage and the unexpected flash of regret.

Too late for that. “I
trusted
you!” he bit out, glaring up at him
.
Rahim was going to send him to hell where he’d suffer endlessly for his betrayal in ways Sandberg couldn’t even imagine.

Baring his teeth, steeling his resolve to meet his death bravely, he bellowed his rage as he wrenched his body sideways, yanking Sandberg with him. Sandberg’s eyes widened, the knowledge of his death registering there an instant before his arm flashed up in a desperate bid to find a handhold. A deep, hideous pain exploded low in Rahim’s belly. They both froze as his agonized scream ripped through the air. It paralyzed him, suffocated him.

Sandberg shoved him onto his back and scrambled to his knees, his gaze cutting to the handle of the knife protruding from low in his abdomen. “Fuck!” he snarled.