WARRIOR (CROSSFIRE SEALS, #5)

by Gennita Low

  He circled the wall in the dark, heading toward where the barn was situated. That Branson fellow was a big man and if he could fit through that hole, Shahrukh would too.

  A small grenade exploded behind the wall and a body fell to the ground nearby. He kept on going. His men would open up the side entrance soon and there would be plenty of mayhem.

  * * *

  “Cumber, position, over.” His commander’s voice came over his helmet mic.

  “Position 3, over. I have my eyes trained for the Shah,” Lucas replied quietly. They’d given Shahrukh that moniker. “I’ll cover him if he’s successful.”

  He tried to stay positive. He didn’t doubt his team and the few gunboat crew members would win and retain the weaponry Shahrukh had used as bait, but he had his doubts about the latter’s finding a young girl in the melee. Sure, he’d recognize her and she might even attempt to escape again, but this time, the risks were higher. If she were running around in that big area where the men were engaging in deadly combat, chances are she’d get caught in the middle of some heavy artillery fire.

  Shahrukh had told them the women would probably be in hiding in the main house, although the Taliban did sometimes have a nasty habit of using their women as shields or even as weapons. But that was mainly when they planned some kind of attack, such as strapping explosives on a woman to act as a human bomb in the market place.

  Still, Lucas hoped Kit was mentally prepared she might not see the young girl alive again. She’d spent the whole day totally invested in her safety and well-being. Losing her when she thought all might end well would be devastating.

  The explosions were getting more numerous. His comrades had already taken off, running towards the entrances illuminated by the fires inside. His eyes scanned the terrain, looking for signs of hostiles and Shahrukh.

  * * *

  Shahrukh went down on his hands and knees. That hole was still there and it was damn small. Those three SEALs must have crawled on their stomachs, which accounted for all that foul animal offal stuck on their uniforms that night. He remembered the smell all too well. He would have to leave most of his weapons and hang on to his main one while crawling in.

  He stood up to unstrap his belt and rounds of ammunition. The sound of heavy breathing caught his attention. A small hand reached out from the hole and grabbed his shoe. A shriek followed and the hand receded. Without losing a beat, he was back on his knees, reaching in with his long arm and finding a limb. Determinedly fighting biting teeth and sharp nails, he tugged hard and pulled a screaming, struggling body out of the hole.

  He covered her mouth. The skin felt slippery from all the muck she’d crawled through.

  “It’s me,” he said in Pashto, shaking her. “Ahmin.”

  That was his Pashtun name when he mingled among the clans.

  She was sobbing, almost hysterical. “Ahmin, Ahmin, Ahmin,” she chanted.

  “Do you remember me?”

  “Yes, yes, yes. Help me. They caught me again. Help me.” She threw herself on him, her voice filled with a desperation that would haunt him later.

  “I’m here to help you,” he told her. “Be that brave girl again for me. Stop crying. We have to go but you must stop acting like a child and be brave now.”

  She was crying so hard, her tears soaked through the front of his shirt. His hands were wet. Her neck felt slippery. Her hair was a mass of wet tangles and goop stuck to it. Her breathing sounded very raspy, as if she was having difficulty breathing through her sobs. He frowned. Something wasn’t right.

  “I will stop crying. I will stop crying.” She kept repeating the line.

  But her breathing remained horrible, sounding like she was suffering from asthma. Shahrukh quickly restrapped his weapons and then tugged on her arm toward the shrubs and line of trees leading to the hidden pathways. She stumbled behind him. He recalled she’d been more nimble last night. Had she been beaten? Was she injured?

  He paused and turned her face toward the illuminated destruction behind them. A curse escaped his lips. He had difficulty checking the tide of anger engulfing him as he stared down at the young face.

  They had cut off Minah’s nose.

  * * *

  Lucas aimed. Fired. No outside help. That was Shahrukh’s suggestion to Hawk. He’d told them his sources would spread the word it was a tribal warfare. Many would stay away if there was a blood feud, but there would be some who might be clan related coming in to assist.

  Joker was on the opposite side doing the same thing. The walled area, which housed the main living areas and the storage facilities, was bursting out in flames all over. There were shouts and war cries, sounds from fleeing panicked horses and people running out. The firelight made it easy to see the men trying to escape.

  A lone figure on horseback charged up the dark trail. Lucas aimed his weapon at him. He seemed to know his way, heading toward the meeting place, not far from where the rest of the river crew waited.

  It was Shahrukh.

  And he was being followed by three other men on horses. One fired his weapon. Shahrukh’s horse continued its way through the night towards where Lucas was in position. The three men continued the chase.

  Lucas took careful aim and fired.

  * * *

  When his steed entered the clearing through the shrubbery, Shahrukh let out a whistle, then nudged his horse back into the shadows. Minah was hunched over in front of him, her hands grabbing to the mane for dear life. He patted her back gently, then jumped off his horse.

  “Minah, you can let go now,” he told her in a gentle voice. “It’s safe to let go. Jump down.”

  She’d been very quiet since his outburst, as if his fury calmed her. She unclenched her fists and slid into his arms. He carried her like the child she still was—should be—and not some married woman to a warlord three times her age.

  A whistle came back. Then another from the river.

  All clear.

  He started toward the boat. Same procedure as last night. He regretted he hadn’t been able to snatch the young girl somehow then. She wouldn’t have had to go through her ordeal then.

  The same crew met with him and helped him get the rescued girl into the craft.

  “Hawk came over the radio. They’re coming back in five, with the seized boxes of weapons. How’s the girl?”

  Shahrukh recognized the voice. It was the one they called River Rat.

  “She’s going to need medical attention,” he said.

  “Serious?”

  “I’ve placed something on the wound to stop the bleeding, but she’s lost a lot of blood. Get ready to transport her where she can be out of harm. I don’t think the base will be able to take care of her injuries. Is everyone on the team coming back?”

  “Affirmative, no injuries. Yet.”

  Shahrukh nodded and tucked the girl closer for a few moments, pulling his coat over her tightly. She was refusing to turn her head.

  “Minah, these people will need you to speak in English where we are going. It’s okay if it’s just a little English because I’m sure they’ll have interpreters. They’re going to help you. I cannot stay, do you hear me?”

  “Why can’t you stay?”

  “Because I have something I have to do. You will let the Americans take you away from here and live a happy life. You will be safe.”

  There was a pause.

  “Okay,” she finally said, in English. “Will...I...see you again?”

  “Insha’Allah,” Shahrukh replied. “God willing.”

  He opened the hatch. There was someone there.

  “Ah, Kit,” he said. “I have someone for you but you mustn’t frighten her with your questions right now.”

  “Minah! Thank God.” Kit moved things around. “Put her here. I’ll take care of her.”

  “Kit?” Minah sounded grateful she recognized someone else.

  “Please do not scream when you see her,” he continued in a low voice. “And...maybe ask permission before
you use that camera.”

  “What?” Kit asked.

  He placed Minah next to Kit. “They cut off her nose.” He could feel Kit’s shock in the silence that followed. He continued, “She’s all right but she needs medical attention as soon as possible. Don’t make her cry again. She’s trying to breathe through her mouth and not her nose. It’s clogged up. Can you handle this?”

  “O...Okay. All right. I...yes,” Kit said, her voice growing stronger. “Yes, close the hatch. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Good. I have full confidence you can handle this.”

  After all, he’d seen how determined she’d been, taking care of that SEAL of hers when he should have been out of commission hours and hours ago. Yet, the man was alive and out there doing his duty.

  Lucky fellow.

  Meanwhile, he had his own duty. He was going to kill the bastard who cut off Minah’s nose himself.

  * * *

  The boat ride back to base was uneventful. Lucas was glad Kit opted to stay where she was. Safer. One never knew when a hostile decided to appear by the banks and start shooting. They stayed mostly quiet, keeping a watchful eye. They had a whole load of seized weapons to show any inquiry into their decision to attack the insurgents again after last night’s successful raid to retrieve The Cob.

  That episode seemed so long ago. It was the nature of life in the theatre, though. Things could move fast; lives could be taken just like that. Or, things could slow down to a plodding pace, hours that would turn into days of waiting for action. The last forty-eight hours fell into the former bracket.

  River Rat had filled him in on what Shahrukh had told them before he left. That poor kid. He hadn’t really checked in on their female passengers since they were in a hurry to get out of there. He’d knocked on the entryway and Kit had confirmed they were fine. He couldn’t imagine the horror and pain of being thirteen and being disfigured like that. All of the guys who had been out in the battle zone had grown silent when they heard the report. He had a feeling he knew where Shahrukh had gone off to and he fucking approved.

  Back at the secured area of the river, they disembarked quickly. It was already lit up and a larger than normal group was waiting for them. Medics. Vivi V-Z and Amber Hutchens. Other personnel to help account for the “confiscated” weapons. And some civilians he didn’t recognize.

  Hawk signaled the men to move a bit further away to give Kit and Minah room to get to Vivi. The medics, having been alerted of Minah’s condition, were ready with beds and equipment. Jazz and a few of his team mates went to stand in front of the civilians and Lucas could hear some arguments coming from that direction.

  Kit emerged from the hatch first, dirty, disheveled and so damn beautiful. He wanted to snatch her up and kiss her for a good long time. Then the young girl with her stood up very slowly. Since he was still on the boat to help them out, he was the first to see her face.

  He stopped himself from uttering the angry curses that rose to his lips. He clenched his jaw and willed himself to look normal as they approached. Where her nose used to be, there was just a bloody mess with two black holes. Someone had wiped most of the blood off but the red dried smears were horrific evidence of the torture she went through. Quickly he pulled out a hanky from his pocket and handed it to Kit. She shot him a grateful look before turning to Minah.

  “Here you go. My friends will take care of you, okay?”

  Minah nodded, holding Lucas’ hanky in front of her disfigured face.

  The moment they stepped off, the medics took over. Lucas stood to one side as Vivi, Amber and an interpreter took over. Urgent orders passed between the medics as they put Minah onto the bed and began checking on her vitals.

  “Hey, Kit! Kit!” Someone called out.

  Lucas turned in the direction of the civilians. Kit also swerved around.

  “Sean? Sean!” She glanced quickly at Lucas and mouthed ‘be right back’ before trotting off to her colleagues.

  So that was Sean and her media team. He vaguely remembered them at the morning fight now. He frowned as he caught the gist of the argument going on. Sean was protesting the fact Jazz wouldn’t allow them closer to Minah.

  “This lieutenant won’t let us talk to Minah and take photos,” Lucas heard him say to Kit. “It’s part of the interview. Go take some pictures.”

  Kit shook her head. “No, Sean. It’s not the right time,” she said. “Minah is very traumatized. I think...we’re going to need permission from her to take any more pictures.”

  “She’s all bloodied up, Kit! We need the visuals to show in our article. You know it’d help our readers to understand the problems of...”

  “Sean!” Kit interrupted. “Not tonight. Believe me. The article will be horrible enough without the pictures of Minah’s condition.”

  “What if I make it an order?” Sean asked.

  Lucas walked toward them. He wasn’t going to allow this Sean fellow to threaten Kit, although he seemed more frustrated than angry.

  “Is that a threat?” Kit asked.

  Sean sighed. “No. It’s been a fucking long day, waiting and not knowing whether you’re all right. But we’re missing a good story here, Kit.”

  “We aren’t. We have a lot of material and I have a first person account. Me.”

  Sean nodded, then looked at Lucas standing behind Kit. He gave a small smile and pointed a finger. “Well. Is that a threat?”

  Kit looked back, gave Lucas a frown, and turned back to Sean. “No.”

  “But I could be,” Lucas said in a mild voice.

  “Ah, more like a guard dog,” Sean said, his head cocked slightly as he studied the two of them. “You must be the SEAL who ran off after Kit. I was told you two know each other. How about an interview about a certain raid? No names, of course. I’ve talked to your Lieutenant here and...”

  Kit shook her head. “Sean, go stand over there and we’ll discuss this in a few minute. Please.” Then she turned to Lucas again. “You aren’t well. You go back there with the waiting doctors and let them take care of you. And here, you’re supposed to drink this down. Now, please. It’s been over an hour since your last one. You have quite a few more of these to go.”

  “Go, Cumber,” Jazz, who had been quietly watching, said, amusement thickening his Cajun accent. “You should follow orders. After all, I was ordered by my wife to come here to prevent the reporters from interrupting her. Look, Hawk’s heading over here now. He’s probably been sent by Amber to stop making a racket. What are we SEALs to do but obey the women?”

  The little jibe brought the level of tension down considerably.

  “I heard that,” Hawk said, when he reached them. “Cumber, you heard your orders. Don’t worry. Kit will be there soon because she has more vials to feed you.”

  It was said in that easy, relaxed way his commander always conveyed, but it was nonetheless an order. He was to report to Medic. Lucas sighed. He’d hoped to avoid another fucking check-up, especially now that he felt one hundred percent better. The looks his two commanders gave him were loud and clear, though.

  With a sigh, he waved his surrender to Kit, turned and trudged off to the waiting medics.

  An hour later, he was still being checked by the base doctor. He sat impatiently, waiting for Kit. She was supposed to show up with the next vial of that magic cocktail. He didn’t care about that. He just wanted her there with him.

  “How long, doc?” He asked.

  “Your heart rate is irregular. We don’t like the second test results, so this is going to take a while, Branson. Lieutenant McMillan told me you’ve been drinking some kind of herbal concoction, that the base of this poison is castor oil, is that right?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Right.”

  “Castor oil is also the base ingredient used to make ricin. You’re showing similar symptoms of ricin poisoning.”

  “I didn’t ingest the poison,” Lucas quickly pointed out.

  The doctor nodded. “I said symptoms. I don’t have any
idea what the poison is and we have to get a biopsy to be more conclusive.”

  “Of my wound? Shit.”

  “What? You get stabbed and called it a nick. Now you’re acting like a pussy because we want to nick some bits of flesh off you? Should be like a paper cut, right? What’s the hurry? Is it your girlfriend you’re having a hard-on for?”

  “Absolutely,” Lucas drawled back. “Just move my big hard-on out of the way before you start cutting anything, okay?”

  The doctor laughed. “That’s the Cumber I’m used to.” He took off his gloves. “I’ll go get ready for the...minor...procedure. Meanwhile, your girlfriend is outside. I’ve taken a sample of that concoction of hers for testing too. I’m going to talk to your commanders and teammates to tell them you’ll be here overnight for a kidney flush. Also, no pissing. You know that means a tube up your dick, right?”

  Fucking asshole wanted to hear him cry. “Yeah, right, okay, thank you. Please tell Lieutenant McMillan I need to talk to him.” He needed to report to Hawk about that other truck and the little boy. But first, please, just send Kit in here before he ripped all these needles out of his arm and get to her. He wanted to make sure she was okay.

  After the doctor left, Lucas glared at the shut door. The doorknob finally turned and Kit burst in. She had cleaned up and changed her clothes. She took one look at him and burst into tears, running to the side of his bed. He held her with his free arm.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, now truly worried.

  Her tears were hot against his bare chest. “Just seeing you,” she replied.

  “I don’t look that bad. Hey, it’s okay.” He stroked her hair. Must be delayed shock. It’d been a long day for his girl. “Everything’s going to be fine, even for that young kid. Facial reconstruction would take care of her nose, you’ll see. I’m sure...”

  “It’s not just that,” Kit said, her voice muffled. “Just seeing you here made me realize how close I was to losing you. Don’t lie about your condition like that again.”

  “It’s part of my job, baby. Everything is dangerous.” Including a knife shallowly. embedded in his belt. “We could have died from that grenade coming at us, remember? I was terrified about your safety all day.”