Deadly Descent (25 page)

Someone moved beside him in the darkness.
He could hear men moaning and screaming.
Shaking, Sadiq scrambled to his feet and picked his way through the smoking rubble.
That explosion had damn near killed him.
Everything hurt, even his insides.
It felt like someone had beaten him with a sledgehammer.
It was dark in the cave, but enough light came through tiny holes in the pile of collapsed rock to allow him to see where he was going.
He almost wished he couldn’t see.
Wounded and dead lay everywhere.
Body parts too.
What remained of the cave stunk of blood and burning flesh.

He slipped on something.
Looking down at his feet, his gaze landed on the bloody remains of someone’s guts beneath his boots.
Gagging, he stumbled over more bodies to where the other survivors were trying to dig their way out of the rock.
He could see the light streaming in through a narrow gap.
Some men were crying, others whispering among themselves.
He pushed his way through the knot of men and took hold of one of the rocks.
It encased them like a tomb.

Using the heavy stone as a lever, he shoved it beneath a tall boulder and pried it loose enough that others could grab it.
They toppled it over.
He jumped back as part of the roof came down, raining rock and pebbles on their heads.
One hit him in the cheek, nicking his skin, and fine dust filled his eyes.
Coughing and scrubbing at them, he managed to move two smaller pieces of rock away from the exit.
Someone took his place.
Excited voices came from outside the hole.
A second later a face appeared in the gap, followed by a hand.
The man in front of him grasped it, and in the light Sadiq could see the raw, bloody wounds on the man’s arm and hand.

More men outside rushed over to help.
The gap widened with each rock pulled away.
“Get back!” he barked, pulling the two closest to him back out of the way to avoid another small cave-in.
The moment the hole was big enough, men started pouring through it.

When it was his turn he placed one boot on a boulder beneath the opening and reached up.
Someone grabbed his wrist and helped pull him out.
Emerging into the light, he sucked in a full breath of cold, clean air and crawled over the jagged rocks.
His head swam as he looked around.
Across the small ravine where the other cave had been, a pile of smoldering rock lay.
It was completely destroyed.
If the mess in his own relatively untouched cave was any indication, no one could have survived in there.

He glanced around in shock.
Men were bleeding everywhere he turned.
His own hands and shirt were spattered with blood.
He touched a finger to his torn lip, and it came away covered with glistening scarlet.

How many of them were left?
He didn’t know.
Hushed voices carried on the wind.
He turned his throbbing head, squinting as his eyes focused on a plateau above him.
Nasrallah stood there.
He was all right.
Sadiq put a hand to his chest, relieved, and made his way over to a spot where he could climb up, wincing at the pain.

He found Khalid standing a few yards behind the general and his advisors.
His predatory eyes lit as he watched Sadiq struggle up the side of the hill.
Mocking and rueful.
And not a damn mark on him.
How the hell had the bastard managed to be clear of the airstrike?
Sadiq looked away and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
The muscles in his legs were knotted.
So tight he half expected them to rip off the bone.

Nasrallah’s face went slack when he finally saw him.
“Help him, hurry,” he urged, sliding his way over.
One of his lieutenants clambered down and helped tow him up.
Nasrallah took Sadiq’s face between his hands and gave a gentle shake.
“I knew you did not die.
I knew it in my soul.”

Sadiq nodded, fighting the urge to pull away.
He was already queasy, and being held in what felt like an intimate embrace made the crawling sensation in his belly worse.

The general released him.
“Not to worry, Sadiq.
We have many men left yet who will continue the fight.” He gazed up at the sky a moment, his expression growing almost dreamy.
“There are always more men willing to fight.” He handed him the binoculars.
“Look at our enemy.
They think they have defeated us.
That they have nothing more to worry about than waiting for the next bird to pick them up.
But they are wrong.”

Khalid approached, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“The woman is there,” he said, nodding to the east.
Wordlessly Sadiq took the binoculars from the general.
The Americans were on the move again in the canyon, heading for the exit.
Sadiq’s jaw clenched.
They’d been close to trapping them there.
If they’d had more time they could have divided again and circled around to entrap them.
Now he didn’t know how they’d ever catch them in the open.
Once they cleared the end and moved to more open, flatter ground, someone would come in to evacuate them.

“I am quite familiar with these hills,” Nasrallah murmured.
“There is another way to get to far end of that canyon.
A short cut.
We need to keep moving and link up with the others.
The battle is not lost.”

Sadiq nodded, not really paying attention to the general’s words, but glad they could still possibly mount another attack.
The magnification of the lenses made his field of vision crystal clear despite the buzzing in his head.
He could see the woman.
She was still conscious, laid over a soldier’s shoulder as he carried her.
He tightened the focus to better see the face that had haunted him for so long.
His eyes caught on the ID patch affixed to the man’s shoulder.
No.
He sucked in a breath so sharply that Nasrallah put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“What is it?”

He couldn’t answer.
His vision tunneled, narrowing until all he saw was the strip of material on the man’s shoulder and the two letters stenciled there.
They made Sadiq’s soul shudder.

PJ
.

The letters ricocheted in his skull like shrapnel.

“What is it?” The grip tightened on his arm.

He couldn’t breathe.
The light wind blew over his face and ruffled his hair, but all he was aware of was the terrible pressure in the center of his chest, as if his lungs were filled with concrete, and the frantic slam of his heart.
Rage and pain swirled up from deep inside, threatening to choke him.
“He has to die.” He barely recognized his own voice, so low and rough.
It was as though someone else had spoken.
His skin tingled and burned as he stared, unblinking, his eyes growing so hot they teared up.
“He.
Must.
Die
.”

“And he will, my son.” Nasrallah patted his shoulder.
“Once we get the woman, they all will.”

Yes, they would.
Including the woman and the PJ,
all
the other Americans in that canyon would die.
But Nasrallah didn’t understand.
This new development changed everything.
The woman was no longer Sadiq’s primary target.
Even if he had to sacrifice himself to make sure it happened, that PJ would die by his hand.

The quiet was starting to grate on her nerves.
No contact from the enemy should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t.
She couldn’t shake the sensation that someone was watching them, following them just out of view behind the unforgiving shield of rock.
Ryan carried the front of a stretcher behind her.
She couldn’t hear any engines overhead, but someone had to have eyes on them, at least part of the time.
A patrolling AWACS.
Maybe a satellite.

Her stomach and ribs were bruised from being bounced against hard shoulders, and every jolt shot needles of fire through her left knee.
Cam held her securely with one arm clamped across the backs of her thighs.
It comforted her to be able to curl around him and hang on.
But when the hell were they going to get to the extraction point?
The sun was already starting to descend in the west.
In another hour or two it would sink below the tops of the hills, and drop the temperature with it.
She’d left her helmet with the NVGs back on the Hawk.
If a rescue didn’t come in soon, she wouldn’t be able to see if she had to shoot again.

At the next clearing the SEAL squad leader called another halt.
Cam set her down with a weary sigh.
He had to be exhausted from carrying her for such a long time.
“Can I do anything?
Rub your shoulders?” she asked.

He took a few sips of water from his CamelBak and offered some to her.
“Just get some rest while you can.”

Near them, Ryan set his wounded man down and immediately got on his radio.
McCall was working on one of the Marines.

“There must be something I can help with.” She felt so useless.
The able bodied men were worn out, and all the other wounded were worse off than she was.

“Gimme a minute.” He left to make another round with Jackson.
After working on the wounded SEAL for a few minutes, he looked up at her and waved her over.
She climbed painfully to her right foot and bit back a growl when the blood rushed to her knee.
She managed a hop, but in a moment Cam was there to clamp a strong arm around her waist.
His stamina amazed her.

“He won’t take any pain meds,” he said nodding towards the SEAL, “but he’s hurting pretty bad.” Cam set her down beside the wounded man and helped her into a sitting position, tucking his ruck beneath her knee to support it.
“He needs some fluids.
Can you hold the bag?”

“Yes.” She took it and held it up so the tube wouldn’t get kinked.
Cam moved on to the next patient.
The SEAL stared up at her through pain-glazed eyes, his lips compressed in a bloodless line.
The thick wad of bandages covering his left hand were soaked with blood, as were the ones on his shoulder and side.
One of the rounds must have hit him beneath the bottom of his Kevlar chest plate.
He might be down, but she knew if another firefight broke out he’d be up and into the action before she could blink.
“Do you need some water?”

He closed his eyes and nodded.
Devon rummaged through his ruck and dug out some water.
She cradled the back of his neck and made sure he sipped it slowly, doing her best to ignore the waves of pain radiating through her leg.
Out front, the remaining SEALs and her crew chief were out in a defensive perimeter.
She saw Cam stop to talk to Ryan for a moment before he made his way back to her.

“Any word on the air support?” she asked.

“Yeah.
Gunship coming on station had to return to base because of mechanical problems.”

Damn.
“Any word on whether we’re being followed?”

“They’re still out there.
But Went’s call for an extraction is working through the channels right now.”

The squad leader turned back to them and motioned with his arm.
“Let’s move.”

Stifling a groan, Devon smoothed a hand over the wounded SEAL’s damp hair before handing off the bag of fluid and taking Ryan’s hand when he came over for her.
“You and me this time, Dev.”

She patted his sturdy shoulder.
“Just try and give me a smooth ride, will you?”

“Do my best.”

They forged ahead, stopping only to take short breaks to let the stretcher bearers rest.
When Cam took Ryan’s place and settled her over his shoulders, she sighed in relief at being able to touch him.
“Only a little further to the LZ,” he told her.

She brightened.
“They’re really coming?”

Over his shoulder he gave her one of the lopsided smiles she loved so much.
“Yeah.
Just a little longer and I’ll get you on that bird for a nice shot of morphine.”

Sounded damn good to her.
She gritted her teeth and focused on breathing to distract her from the hard throbs of pain every time Cam’s steps jarred her leg.
The sun had already disappeared over the tops of the hills.
The dying rays coated the edge of the ridges with a blood red line.