Hard Asset: A Cobra Elite Novel

by Pamela Clare

  Connor was back in military mode. “Where does this river lead?”

  “It flows into the Naf River, but I can take you only so far as Myar Zin. Then I must return. The water grows too rough after that and would destroy the boat.”

  Myar Zin.

  Shanti knew that name. That was Sareema’s village. More than three hundred people had been murdered there. “That was a Rohingya village.”

  Shanti hadn’t realized they were in that part of the country. They really were close to the border now.

  “Yes, and you must take care. We’ve heard that there are Border Patrol and Tatmadaw in the area, both on land and on the rivers.”

  Shanti’s heart sank. “So, business as usual.”

  Connor grinned at her over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t want life to get boring, would you?”

  They flowed with the river, passing a herd of elephants that had come down to the river’s edge to drink. A baby stood between his mother’s front legs and sloshed its little trunk back and forth in the water, playing.

  Shanti saw Connor watching, the smile on his face putting an ache in her chest. He had sacrificed so much for his country. He deserved happiness, a chance to live a life that didn’t give him nightmares, a future without violence.

  She wished that life could be with her. But Connor had been clear.

  He didn’t do relationships.

  What are you going to do when this is over?

  She didn’t want to think about that now.

  They had floated downstream for a couple of hours when the river began to bend gently northward. Mya used the rudder to steer the skiff toward the riverbank.

  “Wait.” Connor raised the rifle, looked through the infrared scope, then lowered it. “It looks clear.”

  “This is Myar Zin.” Mya stepped out of the skiff. “There are farms owned by Buddhist families not far away, so you must avoid going there. They are good people, but they have been led to believe that you are their enemy. The Rohingya village stood just through those trees.”

  Connor jumped to the sand, then helped Shanti. “Thank you, Mya. Please thank your father, too. I’m sorry I doubted him.”

  “He asked me to tell you, soldier to soldier, that he hopes you find true peace one day. To you, Shanti, he asked me to say that there is no greater cause than justice.”

  Shanti swallowed the lump in her throat, what Dempo and Mya had done for her and Connor overwhelming. “You may have saved our lives. Thank you.”

  Mya smiled. “Myanmar is a beautiful country, but we have suffered under many empires. We are a young democracy, and like a hot-headed young man, we make grave mistakes. My father and I love this land. We would see it grow into a just and enlightened nation. I am sorry you have been caught up in our struggle.”

  Shanti pressed her palms together, touched them first to her forehead and then to her chest, and bowed. “Namaste.”

  From downriver, came the sound of an engine.

  “Border Patrol. Go quickly!”

  “What about you?” Connor asked.

  Just like he had with Pauline, he was thinking of Mya’s safety, not just Shanti’s. Shanti loved that about him.

  “Take my rudder with you.” She handed it to Shanti, who found it heavier than she had imagined. “I will tell them I lost it and that it drifted downriver. Hide quickly, or all of this will have been for nothing!”

  Pack on one shoulder and rifle on the other, Connor pushed Mya and the skiff out into the current and then ran for cover. “Let’s go.”

  Rudder in hand, Shanti ran beside Connor, ducking down behind a dense growth of ferns, the two of them watching as a motorboat came around the bend, four men with rifles standing inside.

  They drew up alongside Mya, idled their engine, greeted her. They spoke for a moment and then tied her skiff to their boat and started upriver. Mya glanced over her shoulder in Shanti and Connor’s direction as the boat disappeared around the bend.

  Shanti exhaled, relief washing through her. “She’ll be okay. Now what?”

  “You know the drill. We make camp, get some sleep. The sun will be up soon. I want us gone before that village wakes up. Then we make for the border.”

  Connor waited until the boats were out of sight and then led Shanti farther away from the river, alert for any sign of the villagers Mya had warned them about.

  “Look.” Shanti stared at the ground. “It’s been razed. They’re erasing it.”

  There was just enough moonlight to show a wide, flat area, charred bamboo that had once been huts piled up to one side. The bastards had cleared the scorched remains of the village away, erasing any sign that hundreds of Rohingya families had once lived here and been brutally murdered.

  “This was Sareema’s village. They burned her sister alive. They raped her and beat her and caused her to lose her baby. Now there’s nothing left. People died here. I don’t want to make camp here.”

  “Yeah, neither do I.”

  It was too open, too exposed. Though there were some trees, the land here had been cleared to make fields for farming. That left them with almost no cover.

  He was overdue to check in with Cobra. “Let’s find a spot that’s more out of the way, and I’ll call in. They might have something for us.”

  “Maybe we could just follow the river. Mya said it runs into the Naf.”

  “Yes, but it might meander twenty additional miles along the way. We want to get to the border as efficiently as possible.”

  They went back to the place where they’d hidden from the Border Patrol, Connor stepping out of the tree cover to call in.

  “Where the hell were you?” Shields asked. “Twice today, you just disappeared.”

  He gave her the short version of the story. “Do you have our location now? What’s our best chance for cover, and what route should we take to reach the border?”

  “There’s not much cover. It’s mostly fields. Your best bet is to head due west right now, if you can, before all the farmers and villagers wake up.”

  “We got about five hours of sleep this afternoon and real food, so we’re good.”

  “Luxury! You’re sixteen klicks away from the river. We’ve got the fishing boat there with a team ready. The plan is to slip across the border and meet you in the water while SEALs in a couple of RHIBs create a distraction downriver.”

  “Good copy, Cobra. We’ll reach the water. You be ready to fish us out. I don’t want to lose her to some damned current.”

  “Copy that, O’Neal.”

  He ended the call, walked back to Shanti, who sat where he’d left her, watching him. “On your feet. We’re heading west to the border, hoping to make good time before the villages in the area wake up. Keep the robes on. We might need them later.”

  She stood, shouldered her handbag. “I’m ready.”

  He chuckled, kissed her forehead. “You are amazing.”

  Walking near a river at night came with its own risks. Elephants weren’t the only animals that came down to the water to drink.

  They followed the river until it bent northward then slipped into a stand of trees and made their way around a small village heading due west. Then the moon slipped behind clouds, and the world went dark, Connor unable to see the tip of his rifle barrel. There were no streetlights, no headlights from cars, nothing to show the way.

  Yeah, he was going to demand that NVGs make it into their emergency gear.

  Despite the risk, he took out the flashlight once again, but it flickered out within a half hour, the batteries spent. He would add spare batteries to his list of changes.

  More than once, Connor raised his rifle just to use the scope, trying to pick a safe path. “Let’s slow down. I don’t want—”

  Shanti cried out.

  Connor turned to find her on the ground, her foot trapped in a jumble of tree roots. He dropped his pack, knelt to see. Fuck. “Can you pull it out?”

  She nodded, her teeth clenched. But when she tried, her eyes went wide wi
th pain, and she sank against him, stifling a scream in his robes. “I can’t! It hurts too much.”

  “It’s okay.”

  It wasn’t okay. They’d gone maybe six of those sixteen kilometers and had a lot of distance to make before dawn.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s not your fault.” He cupped her face between his palms, saw panic and desperation in her eyes. “You couldn’t see. We were moving too fast. It could’ve been me. I’m still going to get you home whatever it takes. Do you hear me?”

  She nodded. “I trust you.”

  He made short work of sawing through the roots then put the tool away and took Shanti’s ankle into his hands, doing his best to be gentle.

  She winced. “It really hurts.”

  “I believe it. It’s broken. Your tibia snapped right above your ankle.”

  “How am I going to walk?”

  “You won’t. I’m going to carry you.”

  He pulled out the first aid kit and took out the flexible SAM splint. “I have to leave your boot on, but I think I can make this work.”

  He set her foot down in the center of the splint. “This might hurt.”

  “Oh, good, because it totally doesn’t hurt now.” She still had her sense of humor.

  He wrapped one side across the top of her foot and around her ankle, then did the same with the other half, going in the opposite direction, her gasp of pain cutting at him.

  Goddamn it!

  When the splint was in place, he took out a rolled bandage and wrapped it around the splint to hold it fast. “I’ve got morphine, acetaminophen, and ibuprofen for pain. The morphine will take it all away, but it might make you sick or knock you out.”

  “No morphine. Let me try to walk.” She struggled to stand.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He helped her up.

  The moment she put weight on her leg, he thought she was going to pass out. He caught her, lowered her gently to the ground.

  “I can’t. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to be a pain in your ass. I’ve tried so hard to keep up and not make problems for—”

  “You’re not a pain in my ass, Shanti. You’re the best time I’ve ever had. I’m going to call this in, and then we’ll get moving again.

  Shanti watched while Connor called Cobra from the riverbank, the pain in her ankle not nearly as sharp as her regret. She should have been paying better attention. She should have seen. If she had just taken that one step differently…

  Now she was going to slow the two of them down. After everything Connor had done for her, now he had to freaking carry her.

  He strode back to her, knelt, his gaze searching the world behind her. “Cobra has been working with DEVGRU to drop a team in to help with our exfil, but we might make it to the river before they get their shit together. China is standing by Myanmar, which makes our situation a political landmine.”

  “DEVGRU?”

  “What you civilians call SEAL Team Six.”

  “Oh.” Wow. “Am I worth that?”

  “You’re a prosecutor with the International Criminal Court and a US citizen.” He grabbed his pack. “Let’s ditch the robes. They’re just going to get in the way now. I’ll lighten my pack, strip it down to essentials, and you can carry that while I carry you.”

  Connor worked quickly, putting the things he didn’t feel they’d need inside the robes, tying it all into a ball and throwing it into the river where it couldn’t be found. Neither of them wanted Ashin Dempo or Mya to get into trouble because of them. Then he stuffed the contents of Shanti’s handbag into his backpack, consolidating their gear.

  “Okay, you stand on your good leg, and I’ll get the pack adjusted for you. Hold onto me for balance.”

  When that was done, he walked around in front of her and lifted her onto his back.

  “I’m heavy.”

  “Not as heavy as the Unit buddy I carried for half a day once. He probably had eighty pounds on you.”

  On they went, through stands of jungle and farmers’ fields, Connor breathing hard, his heart thudding beneath her hands as she held on to him. They moved on for maybe an hour when the first rays of light stretched across the sky, giving Connor more light, enabling him to go faster—and bringing the world to life around them.

  Smoke from cookfires. Barking dogs. The bleating of goats. Voices. And behind them, back toward the mountains, the whirring of helicopter rotors.

  Connor stopped in a grove of trees at the top of a ridge, set her down, and went for his water bottle, drinking deeply. Sweat trickled down his temples and beaded on his forehead. “If we have to, we’ll shelter in place and take the last few miles tonight. If I see a good spot to set up camp, that’s what we’ll do.”

  He lifted her onto his back again and started downhill, taking it slowly, Shanti keeping her eyes peeled for people or anything else that might give them away.

  “There’s a dirt road ahead,” she whispered. “I see what looks like an army vehicle. There are soldiers.”

  “I see them.” He stopped behind an outcropping of rocks, lowered her to the ground, and raised his rifle. “Yeah, that’s definitely—”

  A bark.

  A dog came up behind them, wagging its tail, meaning no harm.

  “Shh!” Shanti held out her hand for the dog to sniff, hoping to quiet it.

  “Shit.” Connor drew his knife. “I don’t want to do this, but I—”

  A group of five little girls carrying water buckets came around the corner.

  Shanti willed herself to smile, but the girls had seen Connor’s weapons and ran back toward their village, screaming.

  “Son of a bitch!” Connor sheathed his knife, pulled out the sat phone, and made a quick call. “We’ve been compromised. A group of kids saw us and my rifle and ran away screaming. It’s going to get very ugly here in a minute. If you have an emergency exfil plan, now would be the time. Copy that.”

  “Do they have a plan?”

  “They’re working on one. Come on. We need to get out of here.”

  From behind her, came the sound of men’s shouts. The girls had roused their village, and the men were coming.

  In a moment of clarity, Shanti knew it was over. She slipped off the backpack, pushed it toward him. “Go! You can make it. I can’t.”

  “No, Shanti, I won’t leave you here.”

  “You can’t run with me on your back forever. You’ll be outnumbered. Those villagers are going to tell the soldiers we just saw. I remember what you said—that they want me alive, but they’ll kill you. Please go! I won’t let you die for me.”

  “Those villagers could kill you before the Tatmadaw gets here. And the soldiers—they’ll rape you, Shanti. They’ll torture you. They’ll make you wish you were dead. You’ve seen what they can do. They’ll throw you in a cell—”

  “And I’ll survive just like Sareema did.” She could see from the despair in his eyes that he knew she was right. “Go, now, Connor, or they’ll have both of us. I couldn’t live with myself if they killed you. I love you, Connor.”

  If this was the last time she saw him, she wanted him to know.

  His eyes went wide for a moment, then he ducked down and kissed her. “I’m not abandoning you. Be ready for anything.”

  “Run!”

  He took his pack, turned, and disappeared down the hillside, leaving Shanti alone.

  Her relief was short-lived, her mouth going dry as the villagers rushed over to her, hoes, axes, and sticks in their hands, rage on their faces.

  On a sudden inspiration, she pointed away from the direction in which Connor had run. “He ran that way. He’s a bad man. He hurt me. I’m a tourist.”

  They would find out the truth eventually, but if she could buy him some time…

  The head man walked up, knelt, listened while she repeated what she’d said, making up a story about how he’d abducted her. His English was poor, but he understood enough. For a few precious minutes, it looke
d as if they would take care of her. Women brought her tea. A healer looked at her ankle. A group of men charged off in the direction she’d pointed, running after Connor.

  Then the crowd parted, and a soldier appeared.

  He walked up to Shanti, looked at a photo of her on his cell phone.

  He smiled, said something to the villagers. The blow came fast and hard as he backhanded her across her face, knocking her over, her head striking something hard.

  And then … nothing.

  21

  Connor watched through his scope as two soldiers carried Shanti upright between them, her head lolling as if she were unconscious. They dropped her unceremoniously in the dirt, one of them laughing as he groped her breasts while another reached between her thighs. They weren’t searching for weapons. This was assault.

  Rage hammered in Connor’s chest, the lust to kill rushing through his veins.

  You can’t help her if you lose your shit.

  He drew a deep breath and another, put his emotions on lockdown.

  There were six of them and one of him, but he had the advantage. They believed he was in the wind, running scared, and that Shanti was alone.

  I’m right here, princess.

  He had scoped out his shots across this hillside, knowing he could fire at most twice from each location before they spotted him. He had to make every shot count—without turning himself into a target.

  Her eyes were open now, her face twisted with pain.

  One of them jerked her to her feet, her weight coming down on her broken leg, her cry shredding Connor’s heart.

  Focus.

  An officer walked up to her, shouted something in her face, and struck her.

  Connor couldn’t fire now. If he did, he would risk the round over-penetrating and hitting Shanti, too.

  Step to the side, either side, you fucking son of a bitch.

  The officer walked to the front of the truck, reached inside for the radio.

  Connor exhaled, checked his sight picture, fired.

  BAM!

  The officer dropped to the ground in a red mist.

  Quickly, Connor lined up another shot.