The Girl With The Gun (Sydney Rye Book 8)

by Emily Kimelman

  I didn't respond. I just continued to cough. It wasn't hard considering the state of my lungs. They felt raw and the coughing scratched a painful inch.

  The leader said something to Zerzan, who responded. I watched as the ambulance approached the truck and two women jumped out, hurrying to the passenger side opening. I eased up my coughing and took some steadying breaths, continuing to lie on the ground, my arms handcuffed behind me and my head resting on the sandy pavement.

  The paramedics maneuvered Mujada onto a stretcher. The towel fell away from her body and her wounds were exposed to the bright light of day.

  The night in the truck had not improved them. The welts were puffier and redder. The bruises darker. The blisters on the burns had popped and yellow, raised sores dotted her body.

  I kept breathing, regaining my strength as the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance. I began to stand up as they closed the doors and the driver ran around to climb back into their seat. The soldier grabbed my arm and finished pulling me up. I followed her toward the open gate.

  The ambulance went through it and then Zerzan and her soldier followed. I was about to walk through when Blue barked a warning. I suddenly decided that coming back to the base was a very bad idea.

  I dropped low, wrenching myself free from the guard. I spun on my left foot and lashed out with my right, bringing the soldier to the ground. I rolled backwards bringing my cuffed hands over my feet to the front of my body.

  I lunged and grabbed the side arm off the soldier who'd been escorting me inside and held it on her. She stared at me with wide eyes. It had happened quickly, but the other soldiers noticed.

  I yanked the guard by the arm with my free hand and pulled her body in front of mine as I duck-walked backwards.

  I held her by the hair at the base of her head, the pistol pressed against the back of her skull.

  The remaining guards all aimed their weapons at me.

  "Truck, Blue," I yelled. His nails tinged against the metal as he jumped back into the bed of the pickup.

  I continued moving backwards. The guard’s helmet fell forward and covered her eyes. Zerzan was on her knees, a pistol to her head. Her face was unlined and her expression serene. The gun muzzle pressing against her temple was digging into her flesh.

  The leader was yelling. I couldn't understand a word.

  I maneuvered to the open driver side door. Keeping the soldier's body in front of me I pressed my back up against the seat and then stepped up into the vehicle. I was exposed for a moment but none of them took the shot. I pulled the woman in after me so that she was sitting in the driver seat and I was in the middle. I stayed low, pressing the gun into the woman's stomach.

  The truck was still on and I told her to put it in gear. The soldier looked down at me, her eyebrows knitted together. She had big, brown eyes and pink gloss on her lips.

  I gestured with my chin toward the gear shift. "Back it up." She reached for the shifter, putting the truck into reverse. "Faster." She didn't increase her speed so I used my elbows to press down on her leg.

  The truck sped up. The doors of the truck were still open and wind rushed into the cab.

  I lifted my head. We were a good distance from the front gate. Zerzan was still on her knees. The other soldiers were yelling and waving at each other. They'd be following us soon.

  I held up my bound wrists, the gun still on her. My captive took a hand off the wheel and pulled a key out from her pocket. She slowed down and nearly came to a stop as she used one hand to unlock my cuffs.

  Once I was free I told her to stop. She understood that one. I gestured for her to get out. She didn't pause before launching herself out the open door. I shifted into her seat, threw the truck into gear, and with both doors still open, did a U-turn; that bounced me off the pavement into the sandy shoulder and then back up onto the road. I hit the gas to the floor and the truck jerked forward. I quickly shifted through the gears until we were in fifth, flying down the road. The doors slammed shut as my speed increased. I checked the rearview and saw through the cloud of dust that we were being followed.

  A convoy of vehicles was exiting the compound. As we reached the first twist in the road and I went around the bend, I lost sight of them. Scanning the road ahead, I saw dirt tracks leading off of it.

  I knew I was headed in the direction of Zerzan's territory. It was safer than going toward Daesh-controlled land, but at this point there was no mercy for us. I needed to call Dan. I hoped that he, with the help of our connections, could get me out of there.

  I took the third dirt track to the left. The shocks on the truck struggled to keep the frame from bouncing right off the wheels.

  The road continued for several miles and I went as fast as the truck allowed. It dead-ended at a burnt-out house. Next to the house was a burnt-out truck. "Shit."

  I parked the pickup next to the burnt one and climbed out of the vehicle. There were some supplies in the bed and I pulled out a couple bottles of water.

  Blue followed me as I hiked into the cover of the trees. We continued for forty-five minutes until I could no longer see the destroyed home or anything except for forest.

  It was rough going, there was no trail, and the undergrowth was thick. If they found the truck, we would be easy to follow into the woods. However, I didn't know why they would bother.

  I still had Mary's comm device in my jacket pocket and I pulled it out, hoping Dan was monitoring the line. Turning it on, I listened to static for a moment before speaking. "Are you there?"

  There was no response. I drank some, then tipped the bottle and Blue lapped at the water that spilled out.

  I sat down on a fallen tree and listened to the static in my ear as the day waned. Blue sat next to me and then eventually lay down and closed his eyes. There were no sounds but the ones associated with nature: birds and breeze and shuffling of little legs through fallen leaves.

  The lightning and thunder in my mind were silent for the moment. But I sensed them lurking right over the horizon. This was just the calm before the storm.

  I tried reaching out to Dan every hour or so. He didn't respond until the forest was growing dark, the shadows taking over. My hunger had abated and was replaced with a slight nausea when finally I heard his voice. "Sydney?"

  "I'm ready to get out of here."

  "We've got a plan in place. You need to get to where I can land a helicopter."

  I laughed. "Sure," I said looking around at the forest. "I'll get right to the closest helipad."

  Dan ignored my sarcasm.

  "There's a spot about fifteen miles from where you are. It's a plateau. You're gonna have a hell of a hike to get there."

  "Any way you can airdrop me a sandwich?"

  Dan laughed. "Sorry, I'll have the team bring some food with them."

  "Tell me what I need to do."

  Dan gave me directions and I memorized them. I still had my compass, so I was somewhat prepared. I figured I had just about enough water. But carrying it without a pack was a pain in the ass.

  I began my hike immediately, but when the sun set and the forest became pitch black, I kept tripping. Blue touched my hip and whined softly, indicating that I was acting a fool. I had no choice but to stop for the night.

  At the first light of dawn, we were both up and moving. The hike was steep and without a machete, the underbrush was a difficult obstacle. I let Blue lead sometimes and others I would go ahead. We were only about three miles from our destination when I saw something gray up ahead.

  A cliff.

  We reached the base of the cliff and I stood there, staring up at it. The height of a three-story building, it stretched horizontally for as far as I could see in either direction. I sat down on one of the large, gray rocks that had fallen off the face and opened the communication line. There was a woman waiting for me, and when I explained the situation, she was silent for a moment. I could hear a clicking keyboard. "Oh yeah, I see that."

  I refrained from saying something
sarcastic.

  "Looks like if you head southeast for about five miles, you come to a more gradual approach."

  There was nothing to do but continue and so, checking my compass, Blue and I headed off. At least there wasn't much underbrush as we followed the cliff line and I still had water. "Look at me, looking at the bright side," I said to Blue.

  He stopped and raised his head, flexing his nostrils. I stopped and watched him. He released a low growl. He continued to sniff the air and then took a step forward before glancing up at me. I watched him closely. His hackles rose and adrenaline released into my veins.

  I pulled out my pistol. The forest was to our left, the cliffs to our right. Up ahead were more trees and more cliff. I scanned the trees, seeing only the play of light and dark between the branches.

  I examined the cliff side. A darkening indicated a cave. Fighters?

  Blue stepped toward the forest and I followed him. We worked through the thick underbrush until we were about thirty feet back from the cliffs. We could still see the gray of the stone, but it was hard to make out details through the thick foliage.

  We walked parallel to the cliff, our progress slow and noisy. It took us about fifteen minutes to come even with the site of the cave. I could see through the brush that the opening was about ten feet wide by seven feet tall. Sunlight did not penetrate the space.

  Blue sniffed the air again, and I began to continue our path through the brush, but he stopped me with a low whine. I looked back at him and then the cave. He sat and continued to stare at the opening, his nostrils pumping. I sniffed the air trying to find the scent he was on to. Closing my eyes, I picked up the smell of cooking meat. As soon as I smelled it, it amplified and my mouth began to water.

  There was someone in that cave cooking some kind of meat. Blue wanted it, and so did I. But since we had no idea who was in the cave, it seemed supremely stupid to go after it.

  From what I understood of the local geography, we were in Kurdish land. So theoretically, the soldiers in that cave, or whoever they were, should be somewhat friendly. They at least wouldn't automatically want to enslave me.

  But there was no way of knowing for sure.

  Blue touched his nose to my hip and looked back at the cave. "No boy," I whispered. As I began to walk away, he followed, but also let out an exasperated sigh. "Sorry. I'm hungry too."

  We hiked through the underbrush for another fifteen minutes before I felt it was safe to return to the cliff side. Our progress was much quicker, and we reached the gentler incline we'd been promised.

  I began to climb up, grabbing onto tree branches.

  Blue bounded ahead, waiting every ten to twenty feet or so. Bracing himself against the hillside, he'd look back down at my slow progress. Occasionally, he would loosen rocks, which tumbled down onto me.

  "Blue, stay." He waited for me, and when I reached him, I told him to stay again before continuing on. Of course, then I was knocking rocks down onto him and he barked in protest. "Okay, fine."

  Blue bounded up next to me, his tongue lolling out of his head, and then ran past.

  At the top, I sat down to rest, drinking the last of my water. I'd filled one of the empty bottles with stream water and gave some to Blue.

  It was another two hours of hiking through thick foliage by the time we reached the plateau where the helicopter could land. I lay down in the fragrant grass and opened the comm unit again.

  My mouth was dry and I felt dehydration starting to mix with hunger into a dangerous cocktail of exhaustion and lethargy.

  Dan answered and I let him know that I was in place. "A team will be with you in six hours."

  I stifled a groan.

  We got off the line and I closed my eyes. It was around four o'clock and the sun was just dipping behind the trees. I laid my jacket out flat and put my weapons around me before lying down, planning on taking a nap. Blue lay down next to me and closed his eyes, but his ears swiveled, searching for danger.

  I fell asleep to the melody of the forest in late afternoon.

  I woke up to Blue standing over me, growling. The moon was up, bathing the plateau in pale silver light.

  I listened to the night and heard bugs chirping, the wind blowing through the pines, and Blue's warning growl again. He was looking back into the forest, which was pure blackness to me.

  My pistol in hand, the safety clicked off, I stayed still, reserving my strength and listening. There was shuffling in the woods. Some kind of animal was out there. Was it human?

  The people in the cave could be out doing rounds. Or it could be a bear, fox, anything big enough to make that kind of noise.

  Blue looked up toward the sky and moments later I heard that chop of helicopter blades in the air. The rescue team was here, but if there were armed men in the forest, then we might have a problem.

  Blue returned his attention to the woods, his hackles rising. The shuffling was getting closer. "Down."

  Blue lowered himself slowly, his growl maintaining its low warning hum.

  "Quiet." He cut off the sound.

  The helicopter was getting closer—as were the footsteps. They were definitely human. Perhaps two or three people. What could I do? There was no way of knowing who was in the woods.

  If they were Daesh, then they would almost certainly engage. If they were just random people living in these woods in order to escape the war, then hopefully they would bugger off. The helicopter noise grew and then it was above us.

  I could no longer hear the movements from the forest. I had no way of warning the helicopter that there were others on the ground.

  I just had to have faith they would not engage.

  The helicopter landed, throwing up dust, its wind pushing at my hair. Keeping my pistol in my hand I crawled across the grass toward the helicopter.

  Two men jumped out. They were huge: bulging arms, wide shoulders, and narrow waists. They moved away from the helicopter, one in each direction. I waited until one of them was about fifteen feet away before making my presence known.

  "I'm over here. There are others in the woods. I don't know how many."

  I continued crawling toward him. The man shifted his attention toward us and pointed his rifle into the woods behind me.

  I got on my hands and knees, then ran toward him in a crouch, Blue by my side. The man let me pass him and then moved backwards headed for the helicopter.

  Blue and I jumped into the open helicopter and seconds later, the two men were on board as well. The doors remained open as I clicked myself into a seat and the helicopter began to rise.

  ***

  The earphones muffled the thwapping sound of the helicopter blades. When I was done with my sandwich, the solider who'd handed it to me took the wrappings and shoved them into a bag by his side. With the doors closed, the space warmed quickly and I felt at once tired and revived. The food was giving me energy, but also taking it away.

  Blue sat next to me. I placed a hand on his back. His fur was snarled with twigs and pine needles.

  "I am Terry," the man who'd taken my sandwich wrapping said. He touched the brim of his helmet in a small nod.

  "Nice to meet you. I'm Sydney."

  "We know." He smiled and pointing to the other man and said, "This is Avery."

  "Thanks for the pickup." I smiled. "Where we headed to?"

  "About two hours north, across the Turkish border, to a base run by Fortress Global Investigations."

  "You're Fortress Global employees?"

  "That's right. Most dangerous men alive."

  "Don't I know it."

  I stared out into the night; a smattering of clouds hung at the horizon, dark smudges of matte black against a background of smooth velvet.

  Bobby Maxim had run quite a number on Fortress Global Investigations, the company he founded and ran before taking it public, dumping all his stock, and nearly tanking it. He got out rich, even richer than he already was, which was already filthy rich.

  These guys picking me up
meant he still had pull within his former organization. Hopefully he was still on my side. Our relationship was complicated and while I’d spent years hating him for stealing my revenge—he killed Kurt Jessup before I could—recently we’d reached an accord. He’d saved my life on a number of occasions, which really does help build trust.

  The helicopter blades spun slowly above us as we climbed out of the bird. Avery escorted me across the tarmac. We passed several other helicopters, and I could see jets and large transport planes dotted around the airfield. Avery opened the door to a low-slung building.

  Inside looked like any other office building in America. A waiting room with gray wall-to-wall carpeting, a couch and two chairs, their upholstery scratchy but stain resistant.

  A woman wearing black fatigues with her blonde hair up in a high ponytail that poked out the back of her black baseball cap sat behind a wooden desk. She smiled when she saw Avery. "Hey there."

  "Samantha, this is Sydney."

  "Oh yeah." She smiled and nodded. "They're waiting for you."

  Blue's nose tapped my hip and I laid a hand on his head.

  Samantha came around her desk and moved toward the only other door in the room. She knocked once and then opened it. "Sydney is here."

  "Great."

  I recognized Bobby's voice. He was supposed to be on a beach somewhere enjoying his retirement and occasionally helping out Joyful Justice, but I wasn't surprised that he was less than honest about his whereabouts or plans.

  I rolled my shoulders back before entering the office.

  When Blue saw Bobby, his tail wagged, smacking into my butt as it went. Maxim was standing by a large desk. He was wearing the same black fatigues as all the other staff; on the left breast was FGI's emblem. The globe with rings around it ... like, we got all this covered.

  "Bobby, what a surprise," I said with sarcasm dripping from each word.

  "You know I can't stay away, sweetheart." He stepped forward and took my elbow, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

  He smelled like sandalwood soap. His black hair, graying at the temples, was pushed back from his face. His eyes sparkled, shifting colors; the guy was a real chameleon.