Never Surrender (12 page)

And then, the men dispersed, running down both sides of the wadi that stretched for such a long way. Gabe felt a little of his fear recede. “They haven’t found her,” he rasped. “They’re still searching for her...they found the battle dressing...that’s all....”

Reza’s voice was low with hope, with excitement. “Yes, that’s right. She must have left the dressing there? A decoy to throw them off her trail, perhaps? They’re going to search the rest of that wadi all the way down to the valley floor below.”

It hurt to swallow. Sweat was leaking into his eyes, stinging them. Gabe blinked rapidly, trying to clear his blurred vision. Looking again, he didn’t see any of the Taliban. None was in view. All of them had moved into the wadi. He felt a tiny trickle of relief, but not much. Bay was wounded. “Let’s look on either side of the wadi,” he roughly ordered Reza. “Bay knows better than to hide in an obvious place. You take the north side, I’ll take the south.”

For long minutes, the slant of sun slowly creeping toward the rocks and scree along the south side of the wadi, Gabe carefully looked at every last damned rock, discerning whether it really was one, or just Bay, blending in and looking like the surrounding area. He was a sniper. He knew what to look for; tiny telltale signs that might lead him to where Bay might be hiding was all he needed. Just
one
sign, dammit.

Just give me one clue, baby...just one...

And yet, if he couldn’t locate her, the Taliban trackers might not be able to, either.

“They’re coming back,” Reza warned him tightly, an hour later. They had searched the entire length of the wadi and come up empty-handed.

A tight grin crossed Gabe’s sweaty face, the sun now climbing higher. “Yeah, she’s not in there,” and he felt his heart fill with hope.

Good going, baby, you screwed them royal...

He managed a slight chuckle, watching the soldiers wearily climb up the three-thousand-foot-long slope toward where their horses stood on the goat path.

At that moment, he heard a cryptic message from Chief Phillips in his earpiece.

“Blue Dog online.”

His heart raced with hope as he made one click on the radio, to let Phillips know he’d heard the transmission. The drone was now on station directly above them! Quickly, Gabe whispered their GPS coordinates, asking for the long-range, delicate video camera on the drone to scan north and south of the wadi. Maybe, just maybe, an overhead shot would reveal Bay’s location
if
she was in this area at all. He looked over at Reza, who grinned widely, huge relief in his expression. Hope burned in his dark eyes, too.

Gabe watched, sweating heavily now, the sun hot at almost ten in the morning. The Taliban kept searching, kept looking, coming up with nothing. There was frustration and anger in all their faces. Bay had duped them. Khogani was yelling and waving his hand around at his weary soldiers.

Oh, baby, you’ve evaded them. God, I love you. Just hang on. I’m going to find you...

* * *

B
AY
SLOWLY
AWOKE
,
flies buzzing around her, biting her exposed flesh. At first, she didn’t know where she was at. And then, she heard angry Pashto voices floating her way. Terror shot through her, fully awakening her. Adrenaline surged through her body, her breath changing, becoming ragged and shallow. Tensing, she felt pain shoot through her lower body. What time was it?

Her mind churned, receded and then clarified. It took precious time to focus, to lock in on this one question. As she looked at her watch, the dials appeared blurred. Blinking, her vision cleared. It was ten in the morning. She’d slept a long time.

Heart pounding with fear, she heard Khogani’s voice rising with shrill anger. It sent terror plunging through her veins. He was so near! Squeezing her eyes shut, Bay could barely breathe as the voices drifted closer and closer. Oh, God, was she hidden well enough? Had she dug enough dirt and rock out from below the overhang to completely disappear inside it?

Bay tried to pull the exposed toe of her boot even tighter against her tucked body. Fear sizzled through her as she thought of the Taliban discovering her. She pressed her hand hard against her trembling lips. She didn’t dare make a sound. Not one.

* * *

G
ABE
FOLLOWED
THE
progress of the soldiers as they fanned out across the scree slope, still searching for Bay. Where the hell had she hidden? If he couldn’t find her, they wouldn’t either. Maybe... He knew what to look for and although they were trackers and familiar with their own territory, they still had not located Bay. His heart squeezed with pain, with fear, as they slowly moved around, looking at rocks, looking for anything that might lead them to where she hid.

“Blue Dog bingo.”

Gabe’s eyes widened. His heart lurched. That meant the drone had located Bay!
Oh, Jesus...where? Where?

He clicked the radio once. They were too close, and any speaking could alert the Taliban to the position of their hide. His mouth grew dry as Phillips gave the GPS coordinates. He clicked acknowledgement, his hands trembling. He slowly moved his GPS unit across the goat path, watching the tiny red laser beam hum over the landscape, numbers tumbling and turning. His breath jammed in his throat. There, twenty feet away from where a Taliban soldier stood, was where Bay was hidden.

Dammit!

Gabe had studied that one spot so many times before. His gut told him it was a good spot to hide. And Bay had. Oh, God, she’d done it right! She’d remembered his lessons. A shudder of powerful emotions worked their way through him. Relief, love for Bay, love for her incredible courage and bravery under such terrible, life-and-death circumstances. She’d remembered. She’d learned. He was so damned proud of her.

Gabe quietly laid the GPS unit aside, giving Reza a hand signal to train his spotter scope on the area he indicated. Quickly, he turned his own scope on the scree. Where the hell was Bay? It was all rocks. He could find nothing to indicate her presence.

His heart thundered unrelentingly as the soldier drew closer and closer to her hide. He was looking around, being careful, being thorough. Gabe had him in his sights. His finger softly brushed against the two-pound trigger, waiting...just waiting.

Gabe knew if he discovered Bay, he’d shoot the bastard dead before he could warn the others of her hide. And then everyone would hear the bark of the Win-Mag and come running straight at them. And then, he’d have nineteen men rushing to kill him and Reza. At least the focus would be off Bay. Gabe’s mouth compressed. He settled his breathing, steadying, slowing his heartbeat.

He felt more than saw Reza draw up his own sniper rifle, ready to fire. The Afghan was a damned good shot, and between them, they might stand a chance if attacked. Gabe knew, though, if he killed the one soldier stalking Bay’s hide, the entire group would instantly know where they were hidden.

Quickly, he pulled all twelve mags from his H-gear, laying them out in neat rows so he could reach for a fresh mag, slam it into his rifle and keep on firing. Ninteen Taliban against two of them. His lips drew away from his clenched teeth.

Good odds for a SEAL sniper. Bring it on...

As the soldier stopped and looked around, he scowled. Gabe watched his every expression, saw confusion in his face. Just then, he heard on his radio, “QRF on the way.” Relief washed through him, but Gabe knew that as soon as they heard those Chinooks coming loaded to the teeth with SEALs ready to take the battle to them, the Taliban would instantly react. And Bay would be in the middle of it all.

Gabe sweated heavily, watching the soldier halt at a lip of a slight depression. He was right on top of Bay’s hide. Would he see her? His finger moved solidly but lightly against the trigger, waiting. Just waiting...

The soldier stiffened, peering down into the depression, his mouth popping open in disbelief.

Shit!

He turned to yell a warning. Gabe caressed the trigger. The Win-Mag bucked savagely against his right shoulder. He watched as the pink mist of the bullet slammed through the soldier’s head. The man crumpled, never getting to cry out Bay’s location.

“Son of a bitch, Reza, get ready to fire....”

The Afghan watched through his scope. “Bring the fight to us. She’s unarmed,” he whispered tightly.

Gabe watched as the shattering sound of the rifle’s bark echoed loudly across the area, alerting their enemy, throwing down the gauntlet at them. Every Taliban’s head snapped up in their direction. That was just as well because they could fight back. Bay couldn’t. He sensed she was wounded, hurting. How badly, he didn’t know, but it scared him as little else ever would. Gabe wanted to leave his hide, run that thousand yards and get to Bay’s side, help her. Protect her, but dammit, he couldn’t.

Now the enemy was like an angry hive of disturbed wasps moving straight toward them. It would take the QRF at least half an hour to reach them. Gabe knew the odds, and they weren’t good. During that half hour, they’d have to fight, kill and not get killed themselves. And they probably would not survive it, but he was going to take as many of the bastards as he could with him before that happened.

The QRF had Bay’s position, and they would swoop down, find her, take her to safety. That was all Gabe cared about. He loved her. He’d felt her love in every caress of her eyes on him, in every touch of her long, beautiful healer’s fingers softly skimming his body. He’d found love when he never thought he ever would. And he was all right with dying, because Bay had entered his life, breathed her love into his badly wounded and scarred heart. Gabe’s only regret was he’d never be able to tell her again how much he loved her.

“Rock it out,” he growled over at Reza. Gabe keyed his radio, giving the chief the present situation. And then he settled down to start taking the fuckers out, one bullet at a time.

Reza fired first. A soldier screamed, his AK-47 flying out of his hands, yanked backwards by the .300’s bullet slamming through his body.

Gabe saw Khogani shrieking at his troops, pointing to where they were hiding on the knoll across the goat path. Teeth clenched, he aimed for the bastard’s head. Khogani was going...right...now.... And he fired. The rifle bucked, the harsh bark of the fired bullet surrounding him. He watched the bullet fly true in a classic head shot. One moment, Khogani was shrieking at his men, the next, half his head departed his body, dissolving in the air. The leader crumpled into a heap on the goat path. The soldiers kept moving toward them, bloodlust in their faces, their screams of fury pounding and echoing around the area.

Bullets were flying into their position. They spit up dirt into geysers, snapped past Gabe’s head. None of it bothered him. He turned his cold rage and funneled it into picking off soldier after soldier with his sniper rifle. He was going to get even with every last one of these bastards for touching Bay, for hurting her. Dammit, every one of these sons of bitches was going to hell under his rifle’s muzzle. He had three hundred rounds, and he intended to use every last damn one of them to take the enemy out.

CHAPTER TWELVE

B
AY
HEARD
THE
boom of a Win-Mag .300. She gasped, jerking, oblivious to her pain. And then, an AK-47 fired in answer. They each had their own distinctive sound. She heard two more booming sounds from two Win-Mags. Those were SEAL sniper rifles!
Two of them!
Gasping, her eyes widening, Bay couldn’t believe her ears. They were here! SEALs!
Gabe...

Pushing hard, Bay groaned and tumbled out of her hide, rolling into the rocks below. She landed on her back, the AK-47 gripped tightly in her hand. She panted in pain, her eyes blurred and then clearing. Two SEAL snipers against how many Taliban? Her mind cleared for a moment, and she could think. Actually think!

The blue sky above her looked so peaceful, a sharp contrast to the angry screams of Taliban. Gasping for breath, Bay turned over and dug the toes of her boots into the rocks, pushing her head carefully up and over the ledge of the depression to take a look.

Bay could see Taliban charging across the goat path toward a small hill no more than fifty feet away from it. She noticed the wink of the Win-Mags, their roar taking their bullets to the fury of the enemy attacking them. Two SEALs against so many Taliban! Breathing raggedly, Bay glanced down at the AK-47 in her hands. She knew how to use one. She’d been trained to do it. Hands shaking, she pulled out the magazine. It was full.

Lifting her chin, ignoring the excruciating pain tearing through her lower body, Bay pressed herself against the side of the hide to gain stability in order to shoot accurately. The SEALs wouldn’t survive no matter how good they were as warriors. In her heart, she knew Gabe had to be one of those snipers. She knew with every sobbing breath she took, he had not abandoned her! He’d come after her. He’d found her!

A fierce, overwhelming love for him welled up through her, calming her. Lying the AK-47 down on the rocks to steady the barrel, she pointed the muzzle at the backs of the soldiers charging the hill. Bay set the selector to single shots. She only had one magazine. And she had to make every shot count. She leaned her shoulder into the metal stock, focused though the iron sights on the nearest Taliban and fired.

* * *

G
ABE
SCOWLED
,
SEEING
a Taliban soldier at the rear suddenly crumple and fall.
What the hell?
He and Reza were firing slowly but accurately at the Taliban closest to them, not at the rear of the group. His shoulder ached as he continued one fire, one bullet at a time. Whoever was closest was the one he sighted on. And then, after he saw a second soldier at the back of the group fall, he wondered where the bullet had come from.

He lifted his head for just a second, bullets snapping by him. His eyes narrowed to slits as he saw someone at the edge of the depression. Bay! And she had an AK-47, aiming and firing at the rear of the group, taking them down! His throat ached with relief. She was alive!

Gabe forced himself to return to firing at the soldiers racing and clawing up the hill to reach them. His mind worked like a deadly precision instrument. Now, with Bay in the fight, the Taliban were caught in a cross fire. None of them seemed to realize it yet, because she was killing those in the rear. His mouth thinned into a hard line, his eyes narrowing as he worked the rifle, the buck powerful, rippling through his entire body. He heard Reza’s Win-Mag, felt the heat of the Taliban bullet as it passed so damned close to his neck, his flesh burned in the wake of the passing speed of it.

The bloodcurdling screams of the Taliban grew closer. As fast as Gabe could fire at one, two more soldiers would pop up in his place. They were within a hundred feet of their position. He kept firing, the burning smell of cordite stinging his flared nostrils. They were going to get overrun....

* * *

B
AY
WATCHED
THE
soldiers racing up the hill toward the SEAL’s position.
No! Oh, Lord, no!
They’d be overrun in less than a minute. Gabe was there! Without thinking, Bay jammed her boots into the wall of the hide, scrambling, lifting herself up and out of it. She wove on unsteady knees, forcing herself to stand.

She yelled hoarsely in Pashto, hoping her voice would carry above the gunfire and screams. Two of the soldiers at the rear hesitated mid-hill, turned and looked her way. Bay waved the AK-47 up in the air at them, a challenge. And then, those soldiers screamed at the ones in front of them, excitedly pointing in her direction.

Satisfaction thrummed through her as half the soldiers nearing the summit turned around. Their mouths dropped open. They recognized her! She gave them a tight grin, her teeth clenched as she stood and fired a bullet into the group. One soldier fell.

For a second, the Taliban froze. And then, half of the group turned, running back down the slope toward her. The other half continued to fight their way up toward the crown of the hill. Bay felt rage and channeled it. She staggered to the depression, needing cover because the bullets were starting to snap and pop around her. She had no Kevlar, no way to protect herself. As she fell into the depression, pain ripped up though her. Relief soared through her. She’d at least crippled the attack against the SEALs and split the Taliban force. Now, maybe Gabe and his partner, whoever he was, could handle half the size of the attackers. SEALs didn’t surrender. Not ever. And now, she mentally counted the bullets left in the mag against the amount of angry soldiers running toward her position.

If she fired accurately, she had just enough bullets to kill all the enemy racing in her direction. Turning, Bay leaned against the rocky wall, her head and shoulders above it, the AK-47’s barrel planted on the earth to steady her aim. She saw their hatred. She tasted it. But Bay funneled her fear. One bullet, one enemy...

* * *

G
ABE
GASPED
AS
he saw Bay reveal her position, shouting to get the Taliban’s attention. He couldn’t believe it. Instantly realizing what she was doing, he cursed richly. Bay was trying to stop them from being overrun. In that second Gabe was never so scared. No matter what she’d endured, no matter how injured she was, Bay was bravely making herself a target to save them.
Dammit!

He kept his eye on the enemy. They were within fifty feet when Gabe yelled over to Reza, “Pistol!” And he yanked the SIG Sauer 9mm pistol out of the drop holster on his right thigh, swinging it up, firing as the first soldier came over the crest at them.

At a certain point, sniper rifles were too unwieldy to use. Especially in close-quarters fighting. Gabe watched as Reza dropped the rifle, going for the .45 at his side. Now, it was pistols against AK-47s. And his KA-BAR knife. Jerking the long blade out of the sheath strapped around his left calf, Gabe held it ready in his left hand, close to his body.

Four Taliban leaped over the crest, firing down at them. Gabe burned with hatred as he fired the SIG calmly into the shrieking group. Two fell. He felt a hit to his Kevlar, knocking him forward two paces. But he didn’t fall, instead dropping to one knee, his SIG remaining deadly accurate.

Reza took on two more. The .45 bucked, large holes in the chests of the Taliban opening up, blood flying all around them. Gabe’s whole world slowed down to milliseconds. Four more soldiers leaped at them. His hand bucked. The SIG barked. One soldier was left standing, and he’d thrown himself at Gabe. His hand was out, a curved blade in it, intending to stab him in the chest.

Like hell he would! Gabe sidestepped as the soldier flew by. SEALs were taught to use both their hands with equal ease. As the soldier passed by him, inches between him, Gabe jammed the KA-BAR up into the man’s gut. He heard him shriek. Instantly, Gabe jerked the knife out of his soft abdomen, falling backward, avoiding the downward slice of the man’s blade.

Another soldier jumped him from behind, and Reza yelled a warning. Too late! Gabe growled as he saw a knife slash downward out of the corner of his eye. The blade struck his Kevlar where his heart lay. The point snapped off. The soldier screamed, lifting his hand to try again. He wouldn’t get a second chance. Gabe snarled a curse, bringing the KA-BAR blade up from the left, thrusting it savagely into the man’s side. Ribs crunched and broke beneath the force of the blade’s entry. The man uttered a cry, surprise in his expression.

Gabe hissed, shoving him off to one side of himself, giving his KA-BAR a powerful jerk to remove it from the man’s torso.

Another soldier leaped at him. Lying on the ground, he rolled up to the left and fired straight up at the enemy with the SIG. The man screamed, dropping his AK-47. The weapon bounced off Gabe’s helmet, and he rolled to avoid being hit by the descending body.

The smell of blood, sweat and burning gunpowder surrounded them. Gabe leaped to his feet, shooting two soldiers who had jumped Reza. Breathing hard, Gabe swung around, expecting more enemy to charge them. There were none. He was confused for a moment until he suddenly heard sharp exchanges of gunfire below the hill. Staggering, his back hurting from the Kevlar bullet hit, Gabe spun forward, jumping over the ledge, moving toward the top of the hill.
Bay!

Gabe stood for just a second, seeing five Taliban closing in on Bay’s position. She was firing slowly, accurately. Bullets were raining down on her. With a curse, Gabe turned.

“Get your Win-Mag,” he yelled at Reza. Leaning down, he grabbed up the weapon. His SIG would not cover the distance, but his rifle sure as hell would. He grabbed two mags, racing down the hill full speed, his eyes on Bay, automatically releasing the spent mag in the Win-Mag and slapping in a full one. In one motion, the bullet fed into the chamber.

* * *

B
AY
KNEW
SHE
was in trouble. She noticed the hatred in the men’s eyes as they ran toward her, firing their AK-47s on full automatic at her. Almost simultaneously, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a SEAL running down the hill toward her, rifle in hand. Giving a cry, she recognized Gabe’s form. He was firing the rifle at the men who were about to leap into the depression and kill her. The seconds slowed to a painful crawl. Gabe was trying to save her. Bay was overwhelmed with the knowledge he had somehow found her.

One Taliban soldier jumped down at her, firing his weapon. Bay knew she was going to die. He fired directly at her head even though she raised her AK-47 and fired simultaneously up at him. Her world went dark.

* * *

G
ABE
SCREAMED
OBSCENITIES
as he saw the Taliban soldier leap into the depression, firing down at Bay. He’d skidded to a halt, jamming the Win-Mag to his shoulder, pulling the trigger. Midway down, the Taliban soldier’s body jerked sideways. But it was too late.
Oh, God, it’s too late!

Through his scope, Gabe watched Bay crumple and disappear into the depression.
Son of a bitch!
He roared out her name, running as hard as he could across the goat path. Behind him, Reza fired the Win-Mag twice, taking out the last two soldiers. Hitting the scree at full speed, Gabe stumbled, nearly fell, righting himself, his gaze pinned on the depression. All the Taliban were dead, bodies lying everywhere. Was Bay alive? How bad was she hit?

Breathing in explosive gasps, Gabe skidded to a halt at the lip of the depression. His gaze whipped from the soldier, who lay dead three feet away from Bay. She was unmoving, the AK-47 in her lifeless hand, lying on her side among the rocks.

Gabe cried out her name and fell to her side. Automatically, he reached into his cammie pocket for his blow-out kit, the emergency medical packet filled with items to save another SEAL from a gunshot wound or from bleeding out. Gently, Gabe eased Bay over on her back, pressing his fingers against her heavily bruised throat, trying to find a pulse, trying to find life.

There! He swallowed his emotions. His eyes teared for a second as he felt her slight, fluttering pulse. Rapidly, he raked his gaze across her body, trying to see where she’d been shot. And then, horrified, as he carefully moved her head, he discovered blood leaking down the left side of her skull, across her delicate ear, soaking into the dirty, curled strands of hair. Oh, God, her face was horribly swollen, bruised.

Gasps tore out of his mouth. Gabe heard helicopters approaching, the puncture of rotor blades never sounding so good to him. Two medevacs were following them in because a QRF force might need them. He had a battle dressing and quickly pressed it to the side of her temple and wrapped it around her head where she’d taken the bullet. Gabe couldn’t tell if the bullet was in her brain or had just grazed her and ricocheted off her skull. He began to pray for the first time in his life as he slid his hands beneath her shoulders and thighs. Lifting Bay gently against his body, her head lolling against his chest, a sob tore out of Gabe’s contorted mouth. His chest hurt so damn much, he felt as if he was going to die from grief.

Reza appeared at the lip of the depression. His eyes widened enormously as he saw Bay unconscious in his arms. Without a word, he thrust out his hand and helped Gabe scramble up and out of the hole.

“They’re here!” Reza shouted, pointing to the two MH-47s landing several hundred feet away.

Gabe tried to think through his shock. “Run to them! Get me a medevac! Bay’s been shot in the head. Hurry!”

The SEAL force emptied out of the rear of the Chinooks. Also a Black Hawk medevac landed hundreds of feet farther down behind the Chinook on the goat path. Shoving his legs forward, out of breath, feeling shaky with terror, Gabe pushed forward into an unsteady trot. He held Bay tightly in his arms, not wanting to injure her any more than she already had been. He caught sight of Chief Phillips racing toward him, his face set.

Gabe didn’t even slow down as the Chief met him. “Head wound,” he yelled over the rotors beating around them. The dust was rising on the goat trail, the SEALs were rapidly deploying, M-4s ready, moving toward each of the Taliban soldiers to make sure they were dead.