Hard Asset: A Cobra Elite Novel

by Pamela Clare

  Shit.

  “Is the river swimmable?”

  “You’ll have to judge that for yourself. You’ve got rain forecast for the afternoon. We’re working on some possibilities for an exfil, but nothing has come together yet.”

  In other words, they were still on their own.

  “Stay sharp, O’Neal. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

  “Roger that.”

  Connor climbed back up the ladder, found her ready to go. He shared what Tower had told him and knew the news must be overwhelming for her. “If you feel like you’re getting a blister or you start feeling sick or dehydrated, I need to know. Otherwise, we stick to the tree cover and move fast.”

  There was fear on her face but also determination. “Got it.”

  He drew her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Shanti. I’ll do my best to get you home.”

  “I know you will.” There was that trust again—pure and complete. “Just don’t do anything stupid and heroic.”

  “Okay.” He grinned, ran a thumb over her cheek.

  And because he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed her. “Let’s go.”

  Shanti followed Connor through a dense forest of teak and bamboo, the terrain getting steeper, the air stifling. Helicopters flew in a grid pattern to the south, their rotors buzzing like giant insects, the ghostly howls of gibbons, manic chatter of macaques, and the calls of birds filling the air.

  Connor set a punishing pace, moving quickly up the mountainside, his gaze searching the landscape around them for danger. While he was clearly in his element, she struggled along behind him, sweaty, hungry, and thirsty. She didn’t want to hold him back—or be the reason they didn’t make it back alive.

  Six more days.

  The thought overwhelmed her—until she reminded herself how lucky she was to be alive and free right now.

  She could do this. She had no choice but to do this.

  Her stomach growled, her junk-food breakfast long since digested. She’d heard him say he had five of those MREs. Spread over seven days, that meant one half of an MRE each per day. Those extra ten pounds she never seemed to lose were history.

  It’s the Run-for-Your-Life Diet.

  Gnarled tree roots, liana vines, and ferns tried to trip her, while mosquitoes buzzed in the shadows. If she hadn’t been wearing mosquito repellent and the long-sleeved jacket Connor had loaned her, they would probably have eaten her alive by now.

  Something slithered past her foot, making her jump.

  A lizard.

  Connor glanced back, stopped. “You okay?”

  She nodded, kept going until she reached him, then stopped and tried to catch her breath. “A lizard. I thought it was a snake.”

  “Let’s take a quick break.”

  Shanti wanted to sink to the ground but thought the better of it. She took her water bottle out of her handbag—the damned thing weighed a ton—and took a few sips, mindful of the need to make it last.

  “Stay here for a minute and rest. I’m going to hike up to the top of this ridge and see what’s on the other side.”

  She wouldn’t argue with that. “Okay.”

  He moved up the mountainside with long strides, rifle in his hands, disappearing from view among the trees.

  It was the first real break she’d gotten since they’d left the camp this morning and it gave her time to think—about last night, about the way he’d made her feel and how he’d held her afterward. He was her fantasy lover come to life, the first man to make her come twice. She couldn’t help but feel connected to him.

  Even so, she knew this wouldn’t last. Once they got back to The Hague, he would have his job, and she would have hers. They didn’t live in the same hemisphere, let alone the same country. That’s why she would gladly take whatever he gave her now and sort the rest of it out later. Of course, they had to survive first.

  She glanced around, spotted a little creature that looked like a cross between a squirrel and a mouse darting through the underbrush. Above her head, orchids bloomed, somehow growing on the bamboo, the air full of the unearthly howls of gibbons. Then one of the branches on the bamboo moved, raised its head.

  A green snake.

  Shanti stepped back.

  Was it a tree viper?

  Connor appeared, moving toward her, silent and fast. “There’s a village just across a creek—a farming village with just a few houses and fields. There are soldiers. I couldn’t see how many. We’re going to have to veer to the west to avoid it. Remember that everyone here believes that we’re the enemy. We can’t be seen. Do you understand?”

  Chills skittered down Shanti’s spine. “Yes.”

  “Are you rested?”

  “As rested as I’m going to get.”

  “I know you’re hungry. Try to put it out of your mind. When we’re past that village, we can each have an energy bar.”

  An energy bar. It sounded like a feast.

  “The helicopters are going to be on top of us soon.”

  They set out again, making their way to the top of the ridge. Because the trees were thinner there, they moved quickly over and down into dense tree cover again. Going downhill was easier than going up, though rain had left the ground muddy and slick, forcing Shanti to hold onto bamboo stalks and tree branches.

  “Careful.” Connor took her hand and helped her down a particularly steep and muddy section.

  They hadn’t yet reached the creek when the sound of a helicopter drew near.

  “Time to disappear.” Connor took her hand again and drew her deeper into the concealment of the trees and sat. “Get down.”

  She sat beside him, looking up, the helicopter beating down on them.

  He got out his camo-colored rain poncho and threw it over the two of them, then pulled her close. “Relax.”

  Heart pounding, Shanti closed her eyes, rested her head against his chest, the helicopter almost there.

  “Breathe, Shanti. They can’t see us.”

  She exhaled, her face pressed against his chest, and he could feel her fear.

  If Connor had been alone, this would be a different situation. He’d been trained to control his fear, to push himself to the limits of his endurance, to go without food for extended periods, to hunt and live off the land if necessary. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to put those skills to the test.

  But it wasn’t just his life on the line now. Shanti had none of his training or experience. She depended entirely on him to get her safely home again. That made him vulnerable in a way he’d never been before.

  He didn’t blame Shanti. She’d done nothing to put herself in this position. She was doing everything he asked of her, giving it all she had. No, he blamed whatever had gone wrong at the airport and left Hatch and Davis dead.

  Now it was up to him to make sure she made it out of here alive.

  The helicopter sounded like it was directly overhead now.

  “What happens if he does see us?”

  “He won’t.” Connor knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer. “If he did, he’d relay our location to ground forces, and they would converge here, possibly with dogs, and try to chase us down.”

  “How will we know?”

  “If he thought he saw something, he would hover, stay right on top of us. See? He’s already moving off.”

  She seemed to relax. “What did Tower mean when he said they had created a perimeter?”

  “They’ve tried to guess which direction we went and how far we might have gotten and have saturated the area with soldiers and helicopters in hopes that we’ll run into their net.” He pressed his lips to her hair. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

  When the helicopter had gone, they pressed on, soon coming to the little creek. It was maybe ten feet across and less than a foot deep.

  Connor was going to help Shanti walk across a fallen log, but she stomped into the flowing water and over to the other side.

  “My boots and socks are already wet, and t
hey’ll get wetter when it rains. Why waste time crossing the log?”

  He found himself grinning. “Now you’re thinking like an operator.”

  They pushed west to avoid the village, twice more taking cover to evade search helicopters. When he was certain they’d made their way safely around the village, they stopped for a quick lunch of energy bars and water and then veered to the northwest.

  Clouds were moving in now, settling over the mountains like a blanket, sending the helicopters back to the safety of their landing pads.

  “Time to break out the rain gear. It’s going to pour.”

  They hadn’t gone another ten minutes when the rain began to fall. The dense tree cover kept some of it off them, but the forest floor beneath their feet grew more slippery, especially on steep terrain. It was a hard slog up one slope and down the next, even for Connor, and it slowed them down.

  After an hour of this, he stopped for a break, splitting what was left of last night’s MRE—raisins, breadsticks, peanut butter, and grape jelly. “We’ll go for a couple more hours until sunset and find a place to camp.”

  They pressed on, one step after another, uphill and down. Eventually, the rain let up, and the cloud cover lifted. With the change in weather, the cries of monkeys and the whirring of the helicopters returned.

  Shanti glared up at the sky. “Can’t they give up and go home?”

  “Is General Naing the sort of man who throws in the towel?”

  She didn’t answer, but it had been a rhetorical question anyway.

  They pushed on, twilight settling over the forest.

  Connor stopped. “It’s time to make camp.”

  “We should just keep going.”

  “You’re exhausted, Shanti. You need to rest. The jungle’s a different world at night. Lots of those things you don’t like come out to hunt when the sun goes down.”

  From somewhere to their north came the well-timed howl of some angry cat—and not the kitty kind.

  Shanti’s eyes went wide. “Right.”

  “I’ll scout a good site if you want to—”

  “No! No. I’ll come with you.”

  After a moment, they came to an area where the forest was pockmarked, small round craters in every direction.

  “Shell holes.”

  “What?”

  Connor pointed. “This region of Myanmar was part of the Arakan Campaign in World War Two. The British took on the Japanese here and won.”

  Shanti reached down and picked something up—a piece of worked stone. “This looks like part of a building.”

  “Keep your eyes open.”

  Then, ahead and to his right, he saw a strange vertical tangle of vines.

  Rifle still in hand, he approached carefully. “I think I found the building.”

  The bombed remains of a larger structure stood there, reclaimed by the forest, stairs crumbling, but paint still visible.

  Shanti came up behind him. “I think this used to be a mandir.”

  “A what?”

  “A Hindu temple.”

  14

  Shanti watched as Connor walked up the stairs with rifle raised, moving with a predator’s grace and confidence.

  “Clear.” He walked back down. “It’s definitely a porch, part of what was an entrance. It’s not as nice as the tree house, but we’re not going to find anyplace better tonight. At least it’s dry and off the ground.”

  She followed Connor up the crumbling stairs. There were stone carvings on the three columns and the wall, but in the dark, they were hard to see.

  “Same routine as last night, but we can’t spare water for a bath.” Connor propped his rifle against one of the surviving columns, the stone pockmarked and weathered. “Check your feet. We’re going to have to sleep with our boots on, but try to get your feet dry first. Then we eat.”

  Shanti sat with her back against what would have been the temple wall, took off her soaking socks and boots, and wiggled her toes. “No blisters—not on my feet anyway. I think the strap from my handbag has rubbed my shoulders raw.”

  She had switched sides when her right shoulder had become too painful, so now both sides hurt.

  Connor took off his boots and socks. “Let me see.”

  He pulled her shirt aside. “No blisters yet. Let’s get something on those.”

  He pulled out the first aid kit, took squares of moleskin, and fixed them over the raw spots. “I’ve got room for some of the stuff you’re carrying in my backpack. You can use the handbag for water and personal stuff.”

  “Won’t your pack be heavier?”

  “It won’t be the heaviest pack I’ve carried—that’s for damned sure.”

  While the first aid kit was out, she checked the wound on his head and replaced the bandage. “It doesn’t look infected, but what do I know?”

  “Thanks.” Connor put the first aid kit away and took out another MRE. “Let’s see what’s for dinner. Chili with beans and cornbread.”

  He tore open one of the bags, poured in a little water, and propped it up against his rifle. Then he opened the outer packaging for the chili and stuck the inner packet into the bag with the water. He saw her watching. “It’s a chemical reaction. It enables us to cook without fire.”

  Almost immediately, the spicy scent of chili filled the air, making Shanti’s stomach growl and her mouth water. A few minutes later, their dinner was done.

  He took out the square of cornbread and handed half of the bread and chili to Shanti, along with another plastic spork. “Try to eat slowly.”

  Shanti did her best, but she was so hungry. The cornbread was dry, but she didn’t care, the small meal taking the edge off her hunger, leaving her so tired she thought she might be able to sleep sitting right where she was.

  While she finished, Connor took something out of his pack. It had a green camo pattern like everything else. He shook it out, revealing it to be a … weird sleeping bag?

  “It’s a bivy sack. You unzip the top, which has a tight fabric mesh, and you sleep inside away from rain and insects. Do whatever you need to do, and then it’s bedtime.”

  Reluctantly, she put on her wet socks and boots again. “If we get through this, I’m going to take the longest bubble bath in the history of the world.”

  He grinned. “Can I watch?”

  “You can get in the tub with me.” She walked down the stairs, looking for a little privacy, but the night was dark and full of strange noises.

  Connor must have seen her hesitate. “You’re fine where you are. I’ll take a leak off the edge over here. I promise I won’t watch. Tell me when you’re done.”

  “I trust you.” When she was finished, she was all but stumbling from exhaustion. She washed her hands with a towelette then scooted, wet boots first, into the bivy sack. “There’s room enough for two in here.”

  She hated the thought of him sleeping exposed.

  “We’re outside tonight, so I need to be free to move. I’ll wake you if I hear anything. Don’t worry. I’ve got a space blanket. This isn’t the first time I’ve spent a night out in the jungle. Bugs don’t like the way I taste anyway.”

  She heard herself say something, the words barely registering with her mind. “Then bugs are stupid.”

  Connor chuckled, zipped the bag around her head. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

  Before she could respond, she was sound asleep.

  Connor left their shelter, looking for a break in the forest canopy. This was the trouble with trying to hide. Dense vegetation interfered with the satellite signal.

  He found a spot about fifty meters away, where he could see stars overhead. “Hey, Tower. She’s fine. She’s asleep. We found some kind of ruin—part of a temple destroyed in the war. The sky was full of birds searching for us. We had to veer west to get around a small farming village. The rain made it slow going.”

  “It looks like you put thirty-two miles behind you today. How are the food and water holding up?”

  “Not ideal. We
need to find another water source soon, and we’re splitting one MRE a day. We’ve got three more.”

  “The sooner you get out of there, the better. We’re working with the Pentagon on some plans to speed this up, but the situation is volatile. Sunrise is at oh-five-twenty-two, so get some rest.”

  “Copy that.”

  Connor walked back to their shelter, wrapped himself in a space blanket, and leaned back against one of the columns with his rifle. He quickly fell into a doze, a part of him listening to the sounds around him for anything that could be a threat.

  A rustling of leaves brought him awake. He raised the rifle, looked through the infrared scope, and saw what looked like a large, gangly house cat with spots. It saw him—and vanished.

  Nearby, Shanti lay in the bivy sack, sound asleep.

  Just the thought of her put a hitch in his chest, some nameless longing sliding through him. He wanted … what?

  A lover? Someone waiting at home? Someone to share his life with?

  He’d tried that, and he knew how that story ended.

  Shanti is nothing like Mandy.

  Shanti.

  God, he wanted her. He wanted her to be safe. He wanted her to pardon him, to tell him that the boy’s death hadn’t been his fault.

  What the hell is wrong with you?

  He needed sleep. That’s all.

  Or maybe it was the circumstances, being alone with a beautiful woman who was utterly dependent on him to stay alive. Survival situations had a way of making people bond—or so he’d heard. After years of fighting, the Unit had become his family. He was closer to those guys than he was to his brother.

  And how many times did you sit in the dark watching your Unit buddies sleep?

  That would be never.

  He closed his eyes and dozed again, his mind filling with erotic dreams of Shanti, her breasts, her delicious ass, her mouth on his cock.

  This time when he woke, his boner was to blame.

  He ignored it, eventually drifting into a dreamless sleep.

  The pitter-patter of little feet woke him.

  For fuck’s sake.

  An enormous tarantula walked by him, earning a free flight into the forest thanks to the butt of his rifle.