Retribution (7 page)

Remember why you came back. Stay calm.

“And what the hell do you mean, you should have told Itchy?” Sasha demanded of Hal. The men were drawing closer. Others had moved in from the surrounding hills and were headed their way. Stomach now in her throat, Sasha’s mind chose that moment to key in on that one phrase her sister had muttered.

“I meant what I said, I should have told Itchy, who could have told Dray, who could have prevented this from occurring. You shouldn’t be here because even with el-Din gone, this part of the world is still a cluster. Dangerous for women—that would be you and me,” she pointed first to Sasha and then herself and continued, “Shit, dangerous for anybody.”

“What do you mean ‘Itchy could have told Dray’?” Sasha was hung up on her sister’s words. She’d obviously missed something important.

Why would—
She tamped down her memories. Pain pierced her chest and made her breathing rougher in combination with the fear renting a space there. Now was not the time to go ripping band-aids off still-open wounds. She needed a sharp, involved mind for this little operation. Thoughts of Dray Bonner would muck up the works right now.

She and Hal had entered this country illegally with fake IDs and passports, all to perpetuate a globally criminal act. Sasha had seen no other way to achieve her goal. She’d tried all of the legal channels, only to be rejected. She’d made a promise, damn it, and she’d keep it come hell or high water.

It was semantics but still entirely possible that hell was her present location. Thirty miles outside of Kabul, in the middle of a stopped convoy, surrounded by Taliban fighters? Yeah, hell was right here. She shook her head as Hal kicked her shin.

“Listen. To. Me. Closely.” Hal spoke slowly, cocked her head, and moved her hands in a sign language gesture. “I should have told Itchy what you were planning so he could have told Dray who could have then stepped in and prevented this clusterfu—” Sasha put her hand over Hal’s mouth to prevent that nasty word from finishing, “—from occurring,” she managed around Sasha’s hand.

“All right, sarcasm duly noted. Also, I get that part. But why would Dray have cared?”

“You may not have seen
him
, but
he’s
seen
you,
” Hal responded.

Her sister’s words made no sense. And then there was no time for any more questioning as the Humvee’s doors were yanked open and both she and Hal were ripped out.

* * * *

Dray’s breath stopped in his chest. His heart did too. Maybe there was sand and sweat in his eyes. He rubbed them and looked through the scope again.

“You have to be fucking kidding me. That is so not who it looks like. Surrey, tell me I am not seeing who I think I’m seeing.” Dray’s voice remained calm, but his insides congealed.

“Con, get me Itchy, now.”

“Already done.” Con, the team’s resident demolitions miracle worker, replied.

“He’s reporting Sasha and Hal left from Atlanta two days ago, supposedly on a trip to a spa in Arizona. He had no hint of trouble. He’s questioning family now.”

“Then what the fuck are they doing here?” Surrey’s voice was tight. Dray recognized the tone before his attention was jerked to the scene below them as everything unfolded too fucking quick for him to intervene.

A short, red-turbaned man struck Hal in the face with his fist. No sooner had he done that than Sasha rose up, delivered a stunningly beautiful roundhouse kick to his midsection, doubling the little bastard over. She kicked him so hard he dropped to a knee and vomited on his shoes. Another man stepped in and hit Sasha with the butt of his rifle on her temple. She crumpled like a ton of bricks.

That motherfucker is a dead man
, Dray promised himself before he asked over the comm link, “Con, you got anything in your bag of tricks today?”

“The other one is mine, Dray.” Surrey’s deadened voice moved along the comm link.

“Yes, yes. Watch and learn, boys. We’ll have you a diversion in no time.” Con, with his bag of goodies, was always true to form. “Give me ten minutes, and you’ll have clear space to get to the ladies.”

“Quicker, they’re loading back up and look ready to move the convoy to another location.” Dray didn’t know if they had
five
minutes, much less ten. “Make it two.”

“Got it.”

“Bleak, aim the mic toward the action, record now. Hold your position unless we take fire.” Dray gave the order to Bleak, who’d originally been on standby for this recon mission.

“What in the hell are they doing here, Dray? She didn’t get enough the first time?” The question in Bleak’s voice mirrored Dray’s thoughts.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out soon enough. Surrey, move diagonal to your current position and meet me behind that boulder outcropping twenty meters from the last truck.”

Dray’s plan was to wait until Con’s diversion blew, and then they’d move in to get the women before anyone had time to notice they were gone.

But it kept getting worse. Hal had apparently lost her mind because she’d immediately gotten up after the man had dropped Sasha and begun cursing him out, in Pashto no less, until everyone in the convoy had gathered around them to watch the scene unfold. There were quite a few men laughing, and one had moved closer to Hal, reaching for her hair covering.

“Can’t shut her trap for shit, Dray. This is getting more and more difficult as we go.” Surrey’s voice was edged with desperation.

“Surrey, I need you focused, man. We get ’em and we get out. Do not deviate from my order—get them and move up that north ridge until my signal.” Dray had already marked for death the man who’d hit Sasha, and Surrey sounded like he could kill the one who’d struck Hal with his bare hands.

“Surrey?”

“I’m good, man. I’m with you.”

“We’ll rendezvous at the original extraction point. Bleak, you’re with Surrey. Con, you’re with me—we’re moving opposite to the south ridge and doubling back around that hill. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply from all.

“Take cover; it’s show time,” Con whispered over the comm link.

BOOM!

None of them heard anything for about thirty seconds. Shit, he’d told Con a little diversion, not to rain hellfire and damnation down on them.

“That wasn’t my charge!” Con’s voice was panicked over the link.

Fear coiled in Dray’s gut as he moved to meet Surrey. Bits of earth, rocks, and dirt fell from the sky, and screams rent the air. Surrey was a ghost in front of him, there one minute, gone the next. His heart thumped heavily, and his gaze searched the ground ahead of him. There were bodies strewn everywhere. He frantically searched the area around the fourth Humvee for signs of Sasha and Hal.

“I’ve got Hal, Dray. No sign of Sasha. We’ll meet at extraction, out.”

Damn. Where was she? Wait—over there under the third Humvee. Was that her? Hell yes, it was.

Dray rushed over to her and déjà vu swamped him. He was back at el-Din’s compound again, looking at what he thought was a corpse until he felt her breath, smelled the lemony tang of her skin.

Then he was jerked to the present by Con’s worried voice.

“We got problems, Dray. Twenty or so armed men about one klick south of our location and moving in quickly. They are loaded for bear—that was a fully stocked RPG. Get her out fast.”

It seemed he’d spent the entire sum of their time together dragging her injured ass out of trouble. She had blood dripping down the left side of her face, scarlet against her pale complexion. He was fucking sick of seeing her this way, damn it. Why was she back here? Why hadn’t she let anyone know what she was doing?

“I’ve got her and I’m on my way. Move down toward the front of the convoy and set another charge under the vehicle. Rig it to blow in about one minute and then meet up with me in two klicks. She’s hurt, but I can’t tell how badly. We’re moving.”

Adrenaline surged through Dray and gave his body the extra strength and speed he needed to get them away from the area. He was on autopilot, his mind shut down to everything but getting them both away from certain death.

“Surrey, watch your six, man, enemy coming in from the rear,” Dray warned.

“Got it. Bleak’s with me.”

“Here’s your warning,” Con spoke calmly now over the link.

Behind Dray, the charge went off and the concussion pushed Dray to his knees. He pulled her body close to his chest and covered her as debris rained down. Men yelled in Pashto and ran in scattered directions. They were confused, and he didn’t want anyone to notice the women’s escape, so he got up, ran hard and fast with his precious burden over his shoulder, and when Con met him two klicks from the convoy’s location, he ran some more.

They’d gone about three kilometers when Con stopped him suddenly with a click from the link. Dray stilled like a deer in headlights and slowly sank behind the closest boulder.

“Report,” Dray bit out.

“Surrey called on the SAT phone to report that someone is on their trail. Moving fast, they are in need of coverage and are presently parallel our position some two klicks west. Permission to double back.”

“Go. We’re about two kilometers from our extraction point. We’ll meet up there. Con, be careful.” Dray stood back up, shifted Sasha in his arms, and moved. Worry wound through his brain. He hadn’t anticipated this situation, and now he had no choice but to cut and run to ensure the women’s safety.

His team had been here watching for signs of Kashar el-Din’s sons. The el-Dins were making significant plays for entrance into the big, lucrative world of global terror. Terrorists, guns, and fighting he’d anticipated. Two American women traveling in a convoy headed into trouble, he’d not. The fact that it was Sasha had him desperate.

Dray came up on their meeting point with caution. Nothing appeared out of place, but looks were deceiving. He picked up sounds of Surrey and the rest coming from other points to meet at their hidden transportation. Sasha still weighed next to nothing, but she’d filled out enough for him to notice the difference as he carried her almost five kilometers. He shifted her from his shoulder to his arms. His hands clenched on her shoulder and hip and she winced. He dropped down on his haunches, placing her flat on the ground as he knelt beside her.

“Son of a whore, that crap hurts,” Sasha whispered, touching a hand tentatively to her head, and then immediately, “Hal. Hal, where are you?” Dray moved in to quiet her down.

“If you keep screaming like a banshee, we’ll have Taliban all over us like flies on shit, Sasha. Keep it down.”

A man’s voice—wait,
his
voice—was no more than the air at her ear, but recognition spiked her blood and stiffened her shoulders. Just that quickly her soul eased. She gazed up—
Dray.
She catalogued his rugged features, gaze drifting over the strong planes of his cheeks, the straight nose, green eyes, and those luscious lips. Her hands itched to trace the path her visual inventory had taken her. Not even the cammo paint on his face could hide his masculine beauty.

His gaze scorched her. The air locked in her chest, and Sasha gave in to temptation. She lifted a hand to trace his lips, and her eyes crossed, vision blurring even as the softness of his mouth beckoned her. Damn, her head hurt like somebody had hit her with a two-by-four. So much was happening too fast. She’d promised herself that if the opportunity ever arose with him again, she wouldn’t act like an idiot.

Seeing him here and now when she wasn’t prepared for his impact was like nails on the chalkboard of her nerves. She’d literally dreamed of the time when she’d be able to see him and explain her behavior that day at the rehab center. While this was obviously not the time for sentiment or explanations, so much rode on her response to him she didn’t want to mess this up.

She also wasn’t mentally prepared for any rejection she might get from him. Goodness knew if what Itchy, Con, and Surrey had said to her over the past months was any indication, Dray was probably not going to put out the welcome mat for her again.

She took a deep breath as nausea rolled. “Dray? You know, it’s great to see you. I can’t lie. I’m glad you came to the party, but where the hell is my sister?” Her voice was a heinous thing at that moment, sending pain reverberating through her skull.

She was close to yelling for her sister until he settled on top of her, keeping his weight on one arm as he put his large hand over her mouth. He glanced to her left, and when her gaze followed, her eyes watered in pain. When they cleared, she saw Surrey, with Hal close behind.

Sasha dropped her hands, putting both flat on the dirt beneath her, and attempted to get up, only to have nausea consume her. She fell back retching. She wouldn’t have been able to get up anyway with Dray’s body now covering hers. And yes, even with the pounding in her head and the heaving of her stomach, she’d noticed his body—all on top of hers, causing her heart to accelerate and her blood to heat. The banging in her head moved to symphonic proportions.

“Sasha,” Dray crooned softly against her ear again. “You have to listen to me. This will not work if you don’t follow what I tell you. Hal is fine. You probably have a head wound, and Surrey will look at it soon, but we have to get you and Hal in this truck and gone, right now.”

She shut her eyes, the light like shards of glass through her retinas. Sasha tried to breathe through the agony in her head. Her tears were hot as they leaked down her temple, and her hands flexed, digging into flesh. She felt more than heard him groan, and it brought her eyes open to stare up at him.

His face was rock hard and he very slowly, very gently removed her hands from his very taut ass.

Holy shit! I’ve been kneading his ass.

His chest pressed against hers, and for a blissful moment everything but his body on top of hers receded from her world. The press and flex of his hard body as her softer one cradled it was poetry. For the barest of seconds she could feel his hardness notch at the apex of her thighs. She moaned. He grimaced and then slid off her and got to his haunches.

As if the day couldn’t get any worse, a rueful smile lit his face and a promise she refused to dwell on lit his Irish green eyes. His lips moved, but she couldn’t make out the words.