Never Surrender (11 page)

How she wanted to sprint out of the opening. Wanted to run so damn badly, but she remembered Gabe’s words. He was a sniper. He knew patience. He knew waiting would gain him what he needed to know. She felt his words whisper through her mind, pushing away the sense of humiliation and filth inhabiting her.

Everything remained quiet. Out there, in the night, was her freedom. Her heart turned to Gabe. Oh, God, how would he react to this brutal assault? She loved him so much. Would he turn away from her, not able to touch her again? Bay closed her eyes, tears sliding into the corners of her pursed mouth. Somehow, her heart told her, he would still love her. She had to hold on to hope.

She eased unsteadily to her feet and slipped like a shadow out into the night. As she did, Bay tried to remember everything Gabe had taught her about being a sniper in a hide. His words flowed more strongly through her mind. She squinted, her eyesight adjusting to the night. Overhead, a full moon shone down, a cold and emotionless witness, showing her the goat path south of the cave complex. Relief and terror pounded through Bay as she quickly and silently continued away from the caves. Away from Khogani.

Gabe’s voice, deep and low, remained her guide. His sniper tricks, his concealment skills, flowed through her pained, bruised senses. The farther she got away from the cave, the more hope tunneled through Bay’s rapidly beating heart.
Home.
She had to get home!

Back home to Gabe.

More than anything, Bay knew he’d love her, hold her, no matter what had happened to her. Tears streaked silently down her drawn cheeks as she allowed herself to let his love flow through her, guide her and keep her sane.

As the grayness preceding dawn crawled upon the eastern horizon, Bay discovered a wadi off the goat path. She had no idea how long she’d run down the path heading south. She’d gotten out her compass from her rucksack at one point, knowing now the direction of the village where she’d been kidnapped. The moon made it easy to trot unsteadily for miles along the thin, rocky goat trail. The air was freezing, but it felt so damned good against her hot, sweaty flesh. Bay drew the clean oxygen deeply into her lungs, fear of being discovered spurring her to keep up the unrelenting pace.

Bay was incredibly weary, feeling the last effects of the adrenaline leave her bloodstream near dawn. She would experience adrenaline crash soon, so she chose a thick stand of brush for cover. Moving into it as quietly as possible, Bay found a small hole between all the heavy limbs. The wadi was narrow and rocky.

As she sat down, Bay heard a slight trickle of water. She shrugged painfully out of the ruck.
Water?
Was she hearing things? Her mind would flatten out for minutes at a time, and Bay had no idea of who or where she was. She’d fly into a panic, her heart fluttering with abject terror. And then, her mind would give up information and knowledge once more. Unsettled and frightened that her mind wasn’t working right, she fought what felt like insanity stalking her, just as Khogani had stalked her. Bay was more afraid of losing her mind than anything else. Without it, she couldn’t get home to Gabe.

Slowly lying down and rolling over, Bay flattened out on her stomach, searched for and found the water just below the rocks. Quietly pulling a number of stones aside, she created a small pool of water. The water was infested with all kinds of evil bacteria and parasites that could kill a person—that she knew for sure. Sitting up, she opened her ruck, rummaged around and found the purification tablets. She pulled the bottle out of her cammie pocket, placed it on its side in the water, listening to it burp and burble. When it was filled, she dropped two tablets into it and waited.

Her mouth was so dry. She had no idea how far she’d come. She’d need water in order to keep going. People could live weeks without food. They’d die in three to four days without water.

As she sat still, her hearing became acute. The wind was inconstant. The sky was lightening. Bay had to push on because when daylight came Khogani would discover she’d escaped and send out a search party on horseback to find her. They had expert trackers, too.

She didn’t want to think what would happen to her if they caught her. A violent fear shook Bay physically, her body remembering what had been done to it. The sense of being unclean welled up through her. If only she could take a hot, hot shower and have soap so she could clean herself off. She could rid herself of his smell and his greasy hands upon her body.

Wiping her mouth, Bay shook the bottle, dissolving the tablets. She drank deeply and quickly. Four more times, Bay filled the bottle and purified the water before she was ready to get up and keep trotting as far away as she could get from Khogani and his men.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

B
AY
TROTTED
ANOTHER
three miles before she decided to find a place to lay up for the coming day. Another wadi, this one three thousand feet long down the rocky slope of the mountain, looked like a good place to hide. Gabe’s words about a hide drifted through her mind. Bay couldn’t control her brain. Sometimes, her mind just stopped working, and she felt a horrible sense of abandonment, suddenly confused. But she kept trotting down the trail.

She remembered this was the way home....
Home to Gabe.
And then, her mind would return, but not always with the same information or memories. It was driving her to distraction not being able to control her memory. She knew deep shock could create this mental effect. Khogani had struck her so hard against her cheek and temple, he’d probably caused her a Grade Three concussion. That would explain her on again, off again mind antics. Her lower body ached, and she could feel a fever coming. She had to stop and take care of herself medically, or she’d never make it back to Gabe.

Weaving quietly down through the deep stands of trees and brush within the wadi, Bay discovered another spring, this one much larger, about three feet wide and on the surface. She moved at least a thousand feet farther down before feeling safe enough to stop. Shedding the ruck, Bay opened it with trembling hands, seeking and finding antibiotics in one pouch.

She always kept a bar of soap in her pack and pulled it out of the ziplock bag. And a clean washcloth. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves and cleaned herself up the best she could. The fever was taking hold in her lower body, a sign of infection. The blood had stopped leaking down her legs. Quietly as she could, she tore open a battle dressing. It was big enough to clean up the worst of the damage. Filling the water bottle, dropping purification tablets into it, she used that water to dampen the dressing.

Bay didn’t know pain until she tried to take care of herself. By the time she was done, tears were leaking down her tense cheeks, her breath coming out shallow and fast. The medic in her understood that, regardless of pain, the wound area must be cleaned thoroughly or else. Taking off the gloves and dropping them inside the ruck, Bay slowly pulled up her trousers. Every movement was agony as she forced herself to kneel down over the water and wash her face and hands free of the dirt and blood with the soap and the washcloth. Her nose and cheek ached like hell, but the feeling of a cool cloth across the area felt heavenly, if only for a few seconds.

Her entire body was trembling when she finished her ministrations. At least she was cleaner now. Her hands, lower arms, face and neck were washed free of blood and dirt. She was somewhat clean. Next, she took a maximum amount of antibiotics to fight the infection. Feeling light-headed, Bay looked around the grayed area, dark shadows of branches surrounding and hiding her. Gabe’s voice returned. She remembered him telling her never to hide in an obvious place like a wadi; the Taliban would look there first. How badly she wanted to lie down for just a moment and rest.

Fighting to keep her eyes open, Bay slowly pulled the ruck to her side. She groaned softly as she heaved the heavy gear across her shoulders. She had to get out of here.

Moving south of the wadi, at least four hundred feet away from it, Bay found a deep depression behind a group of rocks crowded against one another. Her memory flashed a picture of her and Gabe hiding in a rocky depression on another Afghan mountain. Yes, this was a good lay up. Her feet wouldn’t listen to her, she was shivering from the cold, her body exhausted beyond its physical limits. Nearly falling into the depression which was at least ten feet deep, filled with rocks of all sizes, Bay slowly looked around.

Gabe had taught her to blend in. Her cammies appeared to be the same color as the white, tan and gray rocks surrounding her. She spent minutes of unknown time building her hide, a U-shaped hole beneath the lip, putting rocks around her so that if the Taliban came over the lip and looked in, they wouldn’t see her.

Her body was shaking so damned badly, she had to stop work. After placing the ruck in the shadowed recess she’d patiently dug out in the wall of the depression, Bay pushed it to one end. She slid awkwardly into the slit below the lip of the depression and, once lodged inside it, curled into a fetal position. The natural overhang would keep her safe from any prying eyes above. Bay collapsed, her head resting heavily on the ruck. She felt more feverish. It would take the antibiotics forty-eight hours to take hold. Until then, she would battle fever on top of everything else. Fever would play with her barely functioning mind.

At least she was free of Khogani, and for that, Bay was grateful. She was a Hill woman. She knew mountains, knew how to survive in them. She could find her way back home armed with the knowledge Gabe had taught her. The challenge was dodging and avoiding Khogani, who she knew had to be looking for her by now. Before she’d gone into her hide, she’d made certain she’d created backward walking or back tracks that would confuse the bastards trailing her. She’d walked on rocks before entering the depression. No one could trace her over rocks. They’d lose her trail. And she’d be able to hide from them. Those were Bay’s last thoughts as she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

* * *

G
ABE
SET
UP
his sniper rifle, looking through the Night Force scope. They’d made it across the valley and up the other side to a goat trail that led directly into the cave complex just before the sun rose. They were a thousand yards east of the goat path.

Reza lay at his side, scanning the area north of them through a spotter scope, his sniper rifle nearby. They were a good five miles away from Khogani’s complex, just below a rocky hill above the goat path.

“Looks like they’re all riled up this morning,” Gabe muttered under his breath as he spotted a single-file group riding their way.

“Khogani looks very angry,” Reza agreed.

They watched twenty Taliban horsemen gallop out of the cave, heading south down the goat path toward their position. Sometimes they’d stop, and the lead soldier would dismount, kneel down, looking for something, and then mount up once more, and they’d gallop onward.

Gabe searched frantically among the riders for Bay. They were much closer this time, each face clear and distinct. His heart sank. They’d spent all night quietly climbing the damned narrow path for three thousand feet. They’d walked the whole way, leading the hard-breathing, laboring horses. It had been torturous, slow, dirty work. His knees were killing him. His heart was racing with dread as he once more searched each rider’s face, praying he’d missed Bay among them. But he didn’t find her on the second inspection.

“Bay isn’t with them. I wonder where they’re going in such a hurry?” Gabe asked, worry in his tone.

“I don’t know.”

Gabe called in the intel to Chief Phillips by radio. The drone had been off-line for twelve hours now, due to a computer malfunction. The ability to send streaming video back to the SEAL HQ had stopped, and it had left them blind. Gabe wanted to curse in frustration. A new drone would arrive shortly overhead to replace it.

They’d lain unmoving, hidden by the rocks just below the top of the hill, as the Taliban had rushed out of the cave like a disturbed hive of bees earlier. Directly across the goat path from where they hid, there was a long wadi, at least three thousand feet, sloping down to a small valley below. Gabe ran his scope up and down it, along each side of it.
Nothing.

Where was Bay? Was she all right? What were these guys looking for? Gabe closed his eyes for a moment, ugly, terrifying emotions churning through him. He was helpless to stop them. He loved Bay, dammit. He wanted her
out
of here!
Alive.
Safe in his arms where she belonged.

His patience as a sniper warred with his anxious heart because he’d seen too much brutality by the Taliban before. He just couldn’t think any further about it, too scared for Bay...for himself, to go there.

The group of riders was within a thousand yards of where they remained invisible. Gabe’s eyes narrowed, watching the same man dismount, move slowly around the front of the group. Looking...looking.

“Oh, shit!” he rasped. “Bay must have escaped! They’re tracking her. That’s why they’re stopping so often. They’re looking for her boot tracks!” His entire body tensed as he watched their main tracker. He was closely studying the dirt and rock path. And looking toward the wadi, pointing at it.

Gabe’s adrenaline surged. Jesus, had Bay made it this far under cover of night? He wanted to scream because that was when the drone went belly up, unable to send live video feed of Khogani’s cave entrance to the SEALs at Camp Bravo. If she’d escaped, they’d not been able to see her slip out of the cave. And, God, Gabe hoped Bay had; the only way she could go was south on this path. Though frantic, he thought of what to do next.

“They’re hunting for her,” Reza said softly. “They’re backtracking now....”

Swallowing hard, Gabe watched them intently through his sniper scope. The tracker seemed confused, following tracks that doubled back and went in the direction they’d just ridden. “Bay was born in the mountains,” he told Reza softly. “Her father taught her to track. She’s creating confusion with her tracks. She’s trying to throw them off her trail by backtracking.”

“Call in the QRF?” Reza asked, his voice hoarse.

Gabe shook his head. “No...not yet. We have no idea where she’s at.” Or even if she’s hidden in the area somewhere nearby. His mind gyrated, recalling a night last year on another Hindu Kush mountain slope when Bay had been with him on a mission of mercy. They’d been set up in an ambush by the Taliban. He’d raced with her up a rocky mountain slope, hoping to evade and escape the enemy. She’d wanted to go hide in the tree-and brush-lined wadi, but he’d told her that would be the first place the Taliban would look. Instead, he’d taught her how to hide out in plain sight and not be seen. That was what snipers did so well.

He vividly remembered that freezing night out in the open in that rocky depression with her.
Oh, God, let Bay have remembered that...
He watched as the riders dismounted, a few of the soldiers holding the reins of all the horses. The rest of the enemy ran quickly around the wadi. His heart started a slow, dreaded pound. Had Bay remembered not to hide in a wadi? Or was she wounded?

“They think she’s in the wadi,” Reza whispered, sounding anxious.

“Yeah...” Gabe focused on the soldiers not only going into the wadi, but also running like gazelles along either side of it. If Bay was in there, they’d find her. There would be no escape for her. His mind tumbled over brutal choices. Call in the QRF? Two Chinook MH-47s would be bearing thirty SEALs coming in to meet this group with maximum firepower. But where was Bay?

Gabe couldn’t call in a QRF if he didn’t know where Bay was located. A firefight would sure as hell ensue, and she could be killed by friendly fire, a ricochet or by a Taliban bullet. And if he called in a B-52, which was circling on a racetrack at thirty thousand feet above them right now, a five-hundred-pound, laser-guided JDAM would blow all them to hell, but it could also kill Bay, too.

He felt bile gather in the back of his throat. He so badly wanted to do something. Anything. But he couldn’t. The sniper in him knew patience and waiting was the only answer to this unresolved situation.

He let out a painful, ragged sigh. “No...we wait.” Those were the hardest three words he’d ever spoken. Watching the Taliban crawl around the wadi, the light revealing more and more every passing minute, searching for the woman he loved. Bay was his life....

Bay, where are you, baby? I know you escaped. Where are you?

And he ruthlessly moved his scope beyond the wadi, looking to the north side of it, studying the rocky scree. And then, he patiently began to scan the south side beyond the wadi. His gut was screaming at him. He sensed Bay hiding south of the wadi. But where?

Suddenly, Gabe heard a triumphant shout from one of the Taliban soldiers hidden by the trees and brush within the wadi. Though unable to hear what was said, Gabe watched all of the soldiers race into the wadi, AK-47s unsafed, their muzzles up and ready to fire.
Shit!
Had they found Bay? His heart hammered wildly in his chest. Gabe trembled violently, controlling his raw emotions, watching the soldiers leaping and running to one, specific area hidden beneath the trees. Holding his breath, his hand tightened against the stock of his Win-Mag .300 rifle. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face.
Watch. Wait. Just fuckin’ wait...

“They’ve found something,” Reza whispered tensely, an ache in his lowered voice. He moved the spotter scope, trying to discern what or who it was.

Gabe held his breath, hardly able to think, his heart in utter turmoil, gripped by icy terror. He wanted to cry. Five Taliban popped out on the south side of the wadi; one of them was waving something in his hand.
What the hell?
Gabe zeroed his sights in on the one man waving something white around in his hand. More and more of the soldiers gathered around him, shouting excitedly. They were like bloodhounds on the scent of their quarry.
What the hell did they find?

Gabe adjusted the fine hairs on his Night Force scope, breathing slowly, trying to keep his backlog of emotions savagely controlled, in his kill box. If he gave into his emotions, he couldn’t do his job. He wouldn’t be able to focus and protect Bay.

His heart stopped. Gabe groaned softly. The soldier was waving a battle dressing around in his hand. Gabe recognized it immediately. And then, his gut clenched so painfully he wanted to scream. The dressing was bloody. Bay’s blood?
Oh, God, baby, where are you?

“No,” Reza muttered, his voice breaking as he recognized what was in the soldier’s hand. Mouth tightening, Gabe watched the men dancing around, triumphantly yelling and shouting over their find. A black-bearded man emerged from the wadi, giving orders, waving his arms angrily at them.
Khogani.
His entire body tensed, and Gabe ached with dread for Bay. Had they found her?