by Amy Jarecki
“Are you going to make it?”
“Och aye, embrace the pain. It is our best friend. It tells us we’re still alive.” Opening one eye, he reached up and grasped her hand. “You okay?”
She gingerly tapped a bruise at the side of her chin. “Never better, but...”
He managed to open both eyes. “What?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
Gnashing his teeth, he pushed himself up and shoved the heels of his hands against his aching temples. “What happened after I passed out?”
“Fadli took me to the top of the cliff—held me over the edge like he was going push me off.”
Mike’s gut twisted. “Christ.”
“It gets worse.”
“And it has something to do with death-defying heights?”
She nodded.
Mike raked his fingers through his hair and took in a deep breath—commenced combat breathing. Though he could jump out of a plane if he was in charge of packing his parachute, heights weren’t his forte. “Tell me you have a plan.”
“I do but, like I said, you’re really, really not going to like it.”
“I’ve done plenty of things I’ve no’ been thrilled about. Come on, I havena all day.”
“That’s truer than you think. And there’s no way to sugarcoat it.” She took his hand between her palms and looked him in the eye. “They’re going to push us off the cliff.”
He pointed upwards. “You mean a two-hundred-foot drop? Ah...to the rocks?”
“Mm hmm. And they’re going to film our deaths for Uncle Sam’s viewing pleasure.”
“And that’s your plan? Our bodies obliterated?”
“No.” She squared her shoulders. “I am Soaring-Eagle—”
“Dunna tell me, you’re going to miraculously grow wings, set to flight and swoop down and nab me in your talons afore I splatter across the cliffs.”
She cracked a smile and chuckled. “I wish, but it’s not quite that easy.” She drew an arc on the dirty floor. “If we fall straight down, we’ll be dead, no question. But when Fadli suspended me out over the rocks, I took a good look, and the water gets deep fast. If we spring away from the cliff—I mean really jump, we just might live.”
“Might?”
“It’s a freaking long way down. If the wind’s against us, the odds are slim.”
“Fuck!”
She cringed. “It’s a risk, but it’s the best we’ve got.”
“And when’s this leap of faith happening?”
“As soon as you regain consciousness.” She lightly brushed her fingers around his palm, immediately bringing a sense of peace. “I know you can do it,” she said in a soft tone that also, somehow, packed a punch. A tone that refused to be questioned.
He looked to the barred window. “Our only other option is to make a run for it.”
“Against fifty men with AKs?”
“Fifty?”
She nodded. “That’s my estimate, anyway.”
“So...a giant leap and a prayer?”
“You must believe we can do it.”
“Do you believe?” He met her gaze and took a sharp breath. She did believe and her conviction transferred to him with the jolt of an electric current. He held her hands while his heart squeezed into a tight knot. Sure, he’d been in situations as bad—situations that looked hopeless, death imminent. But in this moment, all pain subsided—all doubt melted. Only Henri existed, staring at him with those dark-chocolate eyes filled with determination. He pulled her onto his lap and grazed his lips along her ear while a low growl rumbled from his throat. “I feel your strength in my every pore, my every nerve and every pulse of blood thrumming through my veins.”
She cupped his cheeks between her palms. “No matter what happens, we are connected through the bond of our souls. We must fight them because if we fail, they will win. Hundreds—thousands of lives depend on us.”
Mike closed his eyes and nuzzled into her neck while black, silken locks swept across his face. “We will not let them succeed.”
“If my strength flows through your blood, your thirst for life infuses mine.”
The words no sooner escaped her lips when the outer door creaked.
Staring into her eyes as if nothing else in the world mattered, he clutched her palm over his heart. “Show no fear.”
“I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.”
“That’s my girl.”
They both stood and faced the door as two guards walked through, wielding their AKs. Mike refused to give them the gratification of knowing how much pain he was in. In all likelihood, he’d be in a hell of a lot more pain by the end of the day.
If he survived.
If they both survived.
He’d give his life ten times over if it meant saving Henri. Bless it, God would never forgive him for leading her into this mess.
Why did he do it time after time? Run into the mayhem and risk his neck? Time and time again, he’d asked himself that very question and every time he’d end up with the same answer. Who else would? True, he lived off the rush. He liked staring death in the face and telling the Grim Reaper to bite his bum—even when facing death from atop a 200-foot, stony cliff.
But that was him.
It was fine for Mike Rose to put his life on the line, but he had no business asking Henri to run full-tilt into harm’s way.
After their wrists were bound, Mike kept Henri behind him as they followed the guard up the pathway carved out of the rock face. He refused to look down. Showing any sign of fear right now would mean the end. If the terrorists picked up the scent of his fear, things could turn out even worse.
He looked down.
Fuck.
His heart rate spiked. Taking a dive for the white-capped sea below might be the most insane thing he’d ever done. But if Henri wasn’t afraid, he’d be equally courageous. Soaring-Eagle could fly? Well then, so could he—he had the courage of a lion. He was Mike Rose, a Highlander descended from Viking stock. He was a warrior and he would protect his woman. They would survive this day, and he would not allow himself another errant thought.
The gunman jabbed with the muzzle of his rifle, pushing them toward the edge of the cliff. Just as Henri expected, Omar Fadli stood in front of a camera ready to make a mockery out of their deaths. Also standing well back from the cliff, Melvut Amri crossed his arms with a smug grin. Mike clenched his fists, desperately needing to bury his knuckles in that ugly smirk.
One day, mate.
Fadli flashed a hateful glare over his shoulder and pointed to the guards. “If they try to move, shoot them.” Then he faced the camera and puffed his chest out with self-importance. “Today is a great day for Islam! Today, I have captured American murderers Henrietta Anderson and her accomplice, Michael Rose. She killed my brother and returned to murder me, but I caught her red-handed and she will slay our sisters and brothers no more.”
“I’m not an American you fool,” Mike growled under his breath.
A gunman struck him in the shoulder with the butt of his rifle. Mike teetered. Gasping, Henri grabbed his elbow. “Not yet,” she whispered.
Mike gave her a wink.
Fadli gestured toward them. “This woman murdered my brother in cold blood.”
“Yeah, right,” Henri balked. The butt of the rifle moved her way, but Mike thrust out his bound hands and stopped it from hitting her. The man with the gun tried to force it, growing red in the face. No way would Mike give in, even if it meant an early leap.
“And I will make an example of them today,” Fadli continued while the gunman yanked the butt of his rifle away. “Anyone who dares to defy the Islamic State will be punished severely. These two? Their bodies will be crushed on the jagged rocks below and the gulls will feast on their entrails while we celebrate our victory!”
“You ready?” Henri asked, looking like an Amazon preparing to lead her clan into battle.
“Always ready,” Mike replied.
Bu
t Fadli wasn’t finished. “Beware America, we are coming. We are finished with small attacks. We will face you with the might of a thousand dragons. Our ancestors will rise to squash the infidel and all will bow to me!”
“I knew he was radical, but insane is more apt,” Mike whispered.
Henri drew her zip-cuffed hands to her nose and stifled a snort.
“Laughing in the face of death?” asked Amri as he sauntered forward. “You are greater fools than I imagined.”
She squared her shoulders. “I am Soaring-Eagle and you cannot kill my spirit.”
“Enough!” shouted Fadli, motioning to the camera. “Make sure you get this on film. I want to witness the western world’s outrage as our work is aired throughout the internet, on every news broadcast, in every paper.”
Mike planted his feet, bending deeply at the knees as the gunmen shifted behind them.
“I wish I could hold your hands,” he said.
She grinned. “Believe it. Together we fly!”
The gunmen pulled back the bolts on their AKs. Shit, they weren’t going to leave anything to chance. He thought it was a bloody push with the butt of a gun, not a twenty-one-gun sendoff. If they didn’t leap now, they’d end up full of lead. Mike’s heart lurched as he caught Henri’s eye.
“N-o-w!”
Gunfire rang in his ears as he leapt out as far as his thighs could push. His gut lurched up to his throat with the momentum of his fall. In his peripheral vision, Henri soared with him. Time slowed. If only he’d told her he loved her. Told her how much he’d learned from her in the short time they’d spent together. If only he’d told her how much he admired her, her strength, her tenacity, her beauty.
With his next blink, his feet hit the water like slamming onto concrete. His balls slapped the water so hard they felt like they’d been shoved up to his kidneys. Downward he plunged as water engulfed him. Foam filled his nose and the open wounds on his face seared while sea salt lashed across them.
But Mike feared for Henri.
Keeping his eyes open, he peered through the foam for any sign of her. And when his body finally slowed, he spun in a circle. Movement above him caught his eye. She was already swimming for the surface. His lungs began to burn as he raced to catch her before she broke through.
He yanked her leg.
She fought but he caught her eye and thrust his finger toward the rocks.
Giving a nod, she changed course and swam with the current. Waves crashed over them as they surfaced against the rock wall where it would be impossible for the gunmen to see them.
When his head finally broke the surface, Mike sucked in air while grabbing on to Henri’s shirt and holding her up. “You—” He gulped in a breath. “All right?”
“Uh...” She swiped her face while catching her breath.
Mike looked up. They were too close to the cliff to see the top. “You’re amazing.”
“I knew it would work, but I’ve got enough water up my ass to fill a swimming pool.” She laughed. With her wrists still bound, she grabbed his t-shirt in her fists and wrapped her legs around his waist. “We did it!”
“Aye, but were not out of the woods yet.” He gave her a quick kiss. “We need to dive deep. Swim along the rocks until we’re out of the cove. Can you do that?”
“Let’s go.”
“Only come up for air when you’re on the verge of passing out.”
“Then where?” she asked, clinging to him.
“Anywhere there are people.”
She winked. “Who aren’t terrorists.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Commanding the last glimmer of daylight, the sun kissed the western horizon glowing like an enormous ball of fire. Hungry and cold, Henri guessed they’d been in the water at least four hours. Every muscle in her body ached as if she’d been running a day-long marathon. After clearing the cove, they swam on their backs, keeping close to the shore. Saltwater continually slapped her face as Henri’s teeth chattered.
A small jet passed overhead. Henri’s gut roiled as she watched it. “He’s up there.”
“Fadli?” asked Mike.
“Yeah.”
“If that’s him, he’s heading back to Rhodes.”
“And so should we.” Just as the words slipped through her lips, the low sound of an outboard motor hummed through the air. Treading water, Henri fought the waves, searching for a boat. “Look!”
Beside her, Mike waved his bound wrists over his head. “Hey! Over here.”
“Help!” With a rush of energy, Henri shouted at the top of her lungs, kicking her legs to lift her torso out of the water.
The boat changed direction, heading straight for them.
Thank God.
“It sees us!” Mike grasped her arm and squeezed. He grinned, making the bruising under his eye look even darker.
“Thank God.” Henri laughed out loud. “I hope they have food.” A wave lifted her up high enough to see the speedboat clearly—and its captain. “I’ll be damned.”
Mike pulled her behind him, treading water like Aquaman. “What?” he asked, his voice filled with alarm.
She looped her wrists around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. “It’s Luke, silly.”
Fox throttled back as he neared, then dropped the anchor and tossed out an orange life ring. “Bloody hell, Rose, your face looks like you lost a fight with a croc.” He pulled them to the boat’s ladder. “How’d you pair end up here?”
Mike helped Henri climb up first. “Question is what the hell are you doing here?”
“I was watching when you were taken from the airfield. I noted the direction they were sailing, then hightailed it for my plane.”
“Did you see me waving my shirt out the window of the cliff ruins?” Mike asked, pulling himself up the ladder.
“What window?” Luke produced a pocket knife and cut their zip cuffs.
Henri rolled onto a seat. “If you didn’t see him waving, how’d you find us?”
“When I flew over, the same boat that left Rhodes was tied up alongside the ruins.”
Mike collapsed beside her. “You recognized it?”
“Took pictures as they left the airfield—infrared camera. It was a little blurry because of the rain, but I nailed it.”
“Where’s the Gulfstream now?” she asked.
“A hanger not far from here.” Luke moved to the wheel and started the motor up. “Did you get anything on Flynn?”
“He’s still in Rhodes,” said Mike.
“I don’t think so.” Luke shook his head. “The US Navy sent in a team of SEALs. Found nothing, mate.”
Henri looked in the direction she’d seen Fadli’s plane heading. Her tried and true rule of war? Always trust your gut instincts. “Maybe they thought they found nothing. My guess is Fadli had the underground op walled up so no one would find it.” She grasped Mike’s arm. “We have to stop them.”
***
Once they made it to the Gulfstream, it took far too much time to convince Garth that Thomas Flynn was still in Rhodes. Bloody hell, the boss even had trouble believing that Mike and Henri had seen a WWII warhead. But neither one of them let up.
Garth finally agreed.
Mike had also insisted on returning completely, utterly and unquestionably stealth. Henri had been identified too many times for it to be a coincidence. That meant landing anywhere other than Rhodes with Henri completely covered by a burka. Mike shaved his beard and wore a turban with robes to match. He even put in brown contact lenses. Then they landed on Halki, an island 20 kilometers off the east coast of Rhodes. They’d have to sail across to the larger island, then around to the Kalathos Airfield on the west side, but the added travel was worth it. Garth arranged for the use of a small patrol boat with two outboard engines. Mike didn’t ask, he just did a weapons check after they climbed aboard. Garth never let him down when it came to fire power—ammo, rifles, grenades, scopes, silencers, NV, two infrared borescope cameras—even two brand new ICE watc
hes.
The boss’ only caveat?
“Don’t fail.”
Because the Navy had come up with zilch, there was no chance Garth could call in the fleet. And if they were wrong, he would have looked like an idiot for the second time. But at least the CO sent them the ammunition they needed—including a Win Mag with Leupold sights. Hell, Mike couldn’t bet his life that Flynn was still being held at the airfield, but he’d bet everything he owned. And Henri was damned positive. If ever there was a human being with a sixth sense, Eagle Eyes would be that person.
For additional security, they didn’t cast off from the Halki marina until after midnight. It was just the three of them but, this time, they knew what to expect. They’d spent the entire day going over the plan. It consisted of two goals: Rescue Thomas Flynn and put an end to Omar Fadli’s reign of terror.
Anything could go wrong. In fact, mistakes were a surety. That’s why all three of them could recite the plan backwards and forwards—any variation, any setback would be handled and bring the team back to the goal. That’s why planning was so important in this business.
Better yet? It was raining. Not just a wee sprinkle, the skies opened with a torrent powerful enough to wash away the dunes of the Sahara. And Mike aimed to use the weather to his advantage all the way.
They dropped anchor just off the shore where they were still hidden by the outcropping. Before they transferred to a Special Forces inflatable boat, Mike grasped Henri by the shoulders. Even in the dark with rain pouring in her face, she looked like an Amazon ready to take on the world. “No matter what happens, I want you to know you’ve come to mean more to me than anything.” The words I love you refused to form on his lips. Not yet. Not when there was so much a stake. He wanted to save those words for after...when they’d both have time to savor them.
She slid her hands around his waist. “You’re not going soft on me, are you soldier?”
He gave her a wink. “I’m never soft, lass.”
“Hey.” Luke bumped Mike’s arm. “Are we heading into battle or are you pair too busy playing googly eyes?”
Henri arched an eyebrow. “I think he’ll fit right in.”
“Aye, and there’s no time like the present to put him to the test.” Ignoring Luke, Mike wrapped her tighter in his arms, his heart stretching in his chest. He hated to see her face danger and, yet, he never wanted anyone else covering his back. “I’m counting on you, lass.”
