In the shock-and-awe opening to the American intervention in Iraq years earlier, Jessica Lynch was captured by Iraqis. It had taken a SEAL team to rescue her. In the meantime, Ax remembered the hue and cry from Americans that a woman had become a prisoner of war.
Shaking his head, Ax thought they’d better get used to it. There were women who were equals in combat right alongside the men, but they also shared the same fate if it came to that. And with Major Grant acting like a Harpy eagle, circling their SEAL world because of Chief Mackenzie, Ax wanted nothing more than to get that woman warrant officer picked up and brought the hell out of the badlands.
*
LEAH WAS NEVER so glad to see Kell as when he silently appeared in their cave long after dark. There were Pashto voices drifting up the long tunnel from below. She saw him turn on the penlight, hiding it with his hand as he approached her.
“How long have they been down there?” he asked her quietly, seeing the concern in her eyes.
“Since midday.” Nervously, she said, “I started getting our gear ready.” She pointed to his rolled-up sleeping bags.
Nodding, Kell turned and listened to the voices. He knew Pashto well enough. “They’re making dinner and tea,” he muttered. Turning, he briefly touched her cheek. “You okay?”
“Yes. I was getting ready to bail if the voices started getting any closer.”
“Right,” he rasped. He looked around, keeping his gear on, the heavy ruck pulling on his back. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Yes.” Leah felt wired. She’d put her Kevlar vest on, strapped the .45 in the holster on her hip with a bullet in the chamber, safety off. “I wished I could have gotten ahold of you today.”
“I know,” he said, apologetic. “Only one sat phone and I’ve got to have it when I’m out on recon.”
“I understand. What do we do now, Kell?”
“Leave as soon as possible.” He moved around the cave, checking here and there. Coming back to her, he asked, “Have you packed your ruck? Got plenty of bottles of water? MREs?”
“Yes to all the above.”
There was nothing in the other cave except supplies and food. If the Taliban discovered it, they’d be happy about it, but there was no intel for them to find, either. His mind whirled with options. “Okay, get one of my jackets and put it on, and then we’ll get you saddled up and ready to leave with me.”
Leah nodded and walked to the other cave, where he had extra sets of cammies. Relief that they were leaving drenched her. She shrugged on the huge jacket and rolled up the cuffs so her hands stuck out of the sleeves.
Hurrying back, she tried to quell her fear. Kell was calm. Leah could see the look on his face, that superalertness, his senses online. It made her feel safer in a completely unsafe situation.
Kell lifted her ruck and helped her with it. She put on her boonie hat, her hair already in a ponytail. As he moved his fingers beneath the shoulder straps, standing close, he said, “You’re going to have to grab my belt and follow me. We’re heading down the mountain, to the west, where there’s another set of caves I know about. There’s no water in it, and it’s five miles from here. I want to put distance between us and them.”
Nodding, Leah felt the strength of his fingers as he untwisted one of the straps, smoothing it out against her shoulder. Her skin prickled beneath his touch. “I can do it.” She pulled on her set of gloves.
Kell studied her in the gray light. He grinned a little. “You look pretty perky tonight. Good day? No headache?”
Leah responded to his slow, heated smile. Hell, they had the enemy in their backyard and he looked so calm. “I’m okay. Feel almost normal.”
He moved his hand across her cheek, leaning down, kissing her quickly. Kell saw the fear recede in her eyes. “Everything will be fine.” And he wanted to kiss Leah again. Hell, he wanted to do a lot more than that, but now was not the time.
His drawl was like a blanket of serenity settling around her. Leah’s lips tingled with his grazing kiss. She saw care burning deep in Kell’s dark eyes as he cupped her cheek. His fingers were calloused, and her flesh reacted wildly to his fleeting touch. “I’m ready,” she murmured.
“Okay, let’s rock it out…”
Leah knew it was going to be dark outside the exfil tunnel. Kell had his sniper rifle strapped on the back of his ruck, the M-4 in a harness across his chest.
Once outside the cave tunnel, he made a call into Bravo by radio, but his voice was so low, she couldn’t catch the conversation. After signing off, he tucked the radio back into his H-gear and they took off.
She tried to remember how to walk, to not make any noise. Below, she could hear laughter and talking floating up through the tunnel system. When he pulled her outside, Leah drew in a deep breath of relief. She’d felt cornered in that cave from noon onward. In some ways, it felt like being trapped by Grant. She hated coming home in the evening, never knowing what kind of mood he would be in. She always felt as though she were walking on eggshells with him, never knowing what he might do with her.
Today, in the cave, the walls had closed in on her and she’d wanted to run. But there had been no place to go.
Kell caught her right hand and settled it on the left side of his belt above his hip. He patted it, letting her know he was ready to go. The wind was fierce, blowing in gusts. And it was cold. Leah was glad to have the thick warmth of his other jacket. The gloves would keep her hands warm. She adjusted the mic to her lips.
“Test?”
“Roger. Read you loud and clear. Let’s hoof it.”
Leah couldn’t see anything in front of her. But above, the starlight was spectacular, the sky alive with dancing, winking, cold white lights. Shuffling her boots along like Kell had taught her, she was grateful he wasn’t hurrying. They were moving slowly downward and she thought it might be a path of some sort because there weren’t as many rocks hitting the toes of her boots.
She could feel Kell on guard. Every once in a while, he slowed to a halt and looked around. He had on NVGs and could see into the night. She was absolutely blind. Breathing hard, Leah knew they were at ten thousand feet. Her lungs were burning already and she pressed her hand against her chest, wishing it would stop.
“How you doing?”
“Out of breath.”
“To be expected. Want me to slow down?”
“No. I just want to get away from there.” She heard Kell laugh lightly and she felt his hand settle on hers where she gripped his web belt.
“You’re doing fine, Sugar. We’ve gone about a mile and we’re heading down to about eight thousand feet. Your breathing should ease a bit.”
Grateful for his thoughtfulness, Leah buoyed. “I’d never want to be out here without you.”
He chuckled softly. “This is my area. I know it well. Ready to go? Or you want to rest a bit more?”
“No, I’m ready.” She felt him move out, probably cutting his stride in half for her. He had such long legs and she was glad he’d slowed down.
Leah knew they were targets out here, although as Kell had said, the Taliban moved at night only when absolutely necessary. They had no NVGs to see through the night and were essentially blind without them, so they made camp instead.
She stumbled and tripped a number of times, always catching herself, sometimes falling into Kell’s strong back. And always, he would slow down, put out his arm to steady her. Then, he’d stop, waiting for her to regain her balance once again. Talking wasn’t a good thing, either, so she blindly followed him, trying to stay in some kind of rhythm with him. He acted as though he were taking a stroll in the park. It served to help her settle down, to concentrate on where her feet were at instead of worrying about getting jumped by Taliban.
Kell halted and he turned up the trail. “In about two minutes, some Apaches are coming over the mountain. They’re going to go after the Taliban in those caves next to where we were hiding.”
Leah heard a faint whump, whump, whump in the night. “Tha
t was the radio call you made back there?”
“Yes.” Kell took her gloved hand, easing it out of his belt and into his hand. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll take out my HVT, Khogani. Then, I can come back into Bravo and get a hot meal. And see you.”
Her heart skittered in response to his low voice, the intimacy, the sensual suggestion in it. Leah squeezed his hand. “I’ll see you anytime I can, Kell.”
“We’ll work it out,” he promised her confidently. “Here they come. Look up at about eleven o’clock. That’s where they’re going to send rockets into those two caves.”
The night sky suddenly lit up and Leah watched in awe as the two Apaches began firing systematically into the caves. She shuddered, knowing men and horses would lose their lives beneath the fiery onslaught. But if the Taliban weren’t taken out, they would turn around and kill Americans, as well as the peaceful Shinwari villagers who lived in this area.
She felt Kell’s hand tighten briefly around hers as the sound of the rockets, and then gatling guns, rippled through the air, tearing through the night.
“Let’s go, Sugar. No use watching Sodom and Gomorrah burn…”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
KELL SCREWED THE sound suppressor onto the end of his M-4 barrel. He sat near the entrance of their cave. He’d cleared it earlier. Leah was in a second cave, located via a tunnel, and was already asleep. He had to stand guard, hidden behind a piece of rock that was sticking out. If he had to shoot, the sound would be muffled, likely wouldn’t draw attention from any nearby camping Taliban in the immediate area. Through his NVGs he saw the goat path in front of the cave beyond the brush. This was a well-used cave because he’d seen not only goat prints, but horses’ and men’s tracks, as well. It was not the safest place to be, but it had to do for now.
His mind revolved back to Leah. She had to have been limping along on those cramped leg muscles for at least a mile and she’d said nothing. One corner of his mouth moved slightly upward. She’d make a good SEAL.
He’d broken his ankle during a mission. Once he’d determined he had a closed fracture, he pulled out the dark green duct tape from his ruck and tightly taped it up. And kept on going. Motrin dampened the pain, which sure as hell cleared his head, and the mission was accomplished.
SEALs worked with broken bones, strains, sprains, torn ligaments and muscles. Nothing kept the team from their objective. Except death.
He’d brought the sat phone out with him. Kell walked silently to the path out beyond the tall brush hiding the opening. He looked up and down the goat path, seeing nothing.
He called Bravo SEAL HQ and Ax answered. As quietly as possible, Kell gave him an update and their GPS location, plus his next step he planned to take tomorrow. Ax suggested he head toward Bravo, which had been his intention. Kell asked for a drone. Ax said he’d try to get one, no promises.
He switched off the phone, tucking it back into a pocket of his H-gear around his waist. Without the sat phone they’d be in such deep shit, completely blind, no help or support. It wasn’t a place he wanted to be. Not with Leah at his side. He could survive without it, but she might not.
Kell sat down, M-4 across his lap. His hearing was keyed, all his senses alert. He prayed that Leah wouldn’t wake up screaming. That was the only downside to them remaining hidden from the Taliban in this cave. He wished he could hold her in his arms tonight.
He spent the rest of the night envisioning how he was going to introduce her to how a man loved his woman. She’d never experienced that, and it felt damn good to know he was going to be the one to open those doors of pleasure for her.
*
LEAH FELT A HAND on her shoulder, slowly squeezing it. Instantly, her eyes flew open. She saw Kell leaning over her. She was groggy and disoriented, and he held her down, shaking his head. Light was coming into the tunnel. Daylight.
Confused, she saw him put his finger to his lips and then point toward the cave beyond the tunnel. Her pulse raced with dread. She saw the cold look in his eyes, his face expressionless, his gaze toward the tunnel where it fed into the first cave. Soundlessly, he rose, the M-4 fitted to his shoulder as he crouched and moved silently down the tunnel toward the cave opening.
Leah didn’t move. She could hear men talking in Pashto. God, they were close! Reaching for her .45, she slowly and quietly sat up, getting ready to use it. How many Taliban were out there at the entrance area? Her heart lurched into her throat as she saw Kell suddenly move and disappear around the corner. There were shots fired. Muffled sounds. Fear gripped Leah and she jumped to her feet, pistol held in both hands, aimed at the opening. Was Kell all right?
Her heart was trip-hammering as she cautiously moved down the tunnel.
Just as she got near the opening, Kell reappeared. She saw the gleam of sweat on his icy features. His eyes scared her. They were flat and hard. When he saw her, his expression changed. Softened.
“Come on,” Kell urged her quietly, gripping her arm. “We need to get out of here.”
As she turned the corner, Leah saw two men lying dead near their horses. Taking it all in, she saw a third animal, a packhorse carrying a load beneath a dark brown tarp. Halting, she saw Kell walk over and start removing the outer clothing the dead men wore. He quickly stripped one and then the other, throwing the clothes into two piles.
“Get dressed in these clothes,” he ordered her.
Leah’s hands shook as she pulled the voluminous brown trousers over her cammie trousers. Everything hung on her but by the time she was done, she looked Afghan in dress. Looking up, she saw Kell pulling trousers on and slipping a dark blue shirt and a dark brown vest over his shoulders. He took the brown-and-tan shemagh, wrapped it around his head, and then pulled more cloth across the lower half of his face so there was only a slit for his eyes visible.
He came over and fashioned her a makeshift headdress with another shemagh of the same color, making sure her face was also covered except for her eyes.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked.
“Go back into the tunnel and get our gear. We’ve got transportation here and we’ll hide the rucks and our weapons under that packhorse’s tarp. Hurry!”
She ran, fear spiking through her. Had someone head his gunfire? Quickly, Leah gathered up everything, trotting back to the cave entrance. Kell had taken off the tarp. To her amazement, there were two heavy loads of ammunition boxes in the panniers on each side of the horse’s back. He quickly tied their rucks in place, got the sniper rifle hidden, as well. He pulled the tarp back into place, making sure it was secure.
“You need to sling this AK-47 on your back,” he said, picking it up and handing it to her. “Keep the cloth across your face at all times. Taliban have binos and spotter scopes just like we do. If they see we’re Americans or the fact you’re a woman, all bets are off.”
Leah nodded and quickly pulled the AK-47 across her back. “Okay. What else?”
He smiled but she couldn’t see it; only his dark gray eyes that looked like an eagle staring at her. “I’ll take the lead and tie the packhorse rope to the back of my saddle. You ride next to me.”
Leah watched as he picked up the reins on a small brown horse and handed them to her.
“How are you at riding?” he asked, pulling over the taller black horse.
“Does riding a Shetland at a carnival when I was seven years old count?”
He laughed softly. “It’s got to. Come over here, I’ll give you a leg up.”
In moments, Leah was in the uncomfortable wooden saddle that had a piece of a small, red-and-yellow Persian rug draped across it. There was another rug of the same colors beneath the saddle, hanging down over the horse’s rump. Kell showed her how to make the horse move and how to guide it.
More than anything, Leah didn’t want to be a drag or cause Kell disruption. She could see he was fully engaged, knew what he was doing and had a plan, even if she didn’t know what it was. She watched him mount the black gelding, all male grace. He
’d obviously ridden before.
Kell pulled his horse around so he faced Leah. “Now, we’re going to ride like we’re Taliban. At a walk. No hurry. If we’re caught trotting and galloping then they’ll know we’re the enemy. These are strong, sturdy Afghan horses and they cover a lot of ground at a walk. I’m going to take us as far as we can get and we’ll hope like hell we can carry off this disguise.”
“And if we can’t?” she asked, fearful.
“We’ll make a run for it.” Kell patted his H-gear beneath the Afghan clothing. “I’ll be on the sat phone with Bravo. They’ll know our GPS once we take a rest somewhere that we can’t be seen by the tangos. Do you know how to use an AK-47?”
“No.”
“At our first rest stop, I’ll show you.”
Gulping, Leah nodded, a lump of fear in her throat. Flying above the land was a helluva lot safer than having to ride across it. “I’m ready.”
He winked at her. “Let’s go, Sugar. We’re on an adventure.”
The sunlight was bright. Kell told her not to use sunglasses because it was a dead giveaway they were American black ops to the Taliban. She squinted, wishing she had a baseball cap, but that, too, would give them away. Her horse was happy to be next to the horse Kell rode. Their feet would occasionally brush against one another as they walked across the desert floor. There were huge boulders to go around, brush and long barren patches of fine dirt the color of ocher.
The sun was cresting the mountains, sending long slats across the valley where they rode. The chill in the air was dissolving quickly.
Kell told her to keep her hand down on the saddle, to ride like a Taliban man would. He corrected small things and she knew it was vital to their welfare that they looked and acted the part.
They had covered the valley and were moving into the hills, following one particular goat path. Over the past three hours, some of Leah’s trepidation and fear had dissipated. The heat of the day was building and she was sweating heavily beneath all the clothes she was wearing. Her butt ached, the saddle a true pain in the ass. Her legs were chafing against the rope stirrups and she felt like a complete amateur compared to Kell. He knew how to ride and looked like a man who knew what he was doing.
Running Fire Page 16
