She and her horse burst out of the narrow, dirt path and onto the grassy valley floor. As her horse raced frantically to catch up with his partner, she heaved a sigh of relief. Ty looked back. He had a surprised expression on his face. Rachel signaled for him to keep going, but he slowed down.
It was then that Rachel knew there was more than friendship developing between them. Ty, she was sure, saw how dusty and dirty she looked and knew she had fallen. The look of care on his face touched her as nothing else could. He held his fractious mount back until she could join him.
“I fell,” she shouted to him, urging her horse into a gallop. “We’re okay! Let’s go!”
Ty nodded. Wrenching his horse around, he noted the fifteen Taliban coming down the slope. He cursed and quickly caught up with fleeing Rachel and her mount.
“They’re coming after us!” he shouted as he drew abreast of her.
“We’d better hope like hell they got an Apache to cut loose and get it over to us in time, or we’re fried.”
Now it was a race against death. Rachel kept low in the saddle. She looked back every few strides to see how close the Taliban were. For a while she couldn’t see them. Their horses must have tired. She could feel her own mount begin to slow. His coat was covered with sweat and dirt. Up ahead, there was a goat trail that came off from the village above them, but it was a mile long. They had to try and first find it and then climb it. Looking up at the massive, rocky mountain, Rachel’s hope began to die. Too much effort and their horses wouldn’t last. They had to climb from five thousand to ninety-five hundred feet to Samarigam. If they stayed here, they’d be targets.
Looking up at the sky, the wind tearing past her, Rachel anxiously searched for that black speck that would mean an Apache helicopter was coming their way. But the sky was empty. Without the two Apaches that had been destroyed earlier, BJS was strapped and couldn’t send a combat helicopter to every urgent call as much as they might want to. She twisted in the saddle. Her eyes widened. The Taliban had just hit the valley floor. She saw them waving their rifles. Right now, there was two miles between them. And their bullets couldn’t reach that far.
“They’re on the floor!” she shouted to Ty
He looked back. Damn! Twisting back around, he yelled, “We’ve gotta find that goat trail up to the village!”
Rachel rode up alongside him. Both their horses were wheezing and sucking in huge breaths of air. “I don’t know where it is! Do you?”
He shook his head. “We just have to keep riding down the valley until we find it!”
Her hope was shredding as she kept looking back. Was it her imagination or were the Taliban riders getting closer? Their horses might be a lot fresher than their mounts. If that was so, they would slowly but surely close the gap between them. And then they’d start shooting at them. If a bullet hit one of their horses, that would be the nail in their coffins.
“There!” Ty shouted triumphantly. He jabbed his finger toward a trail in the distance.
Rachel noticed the goat trail that led up to the village. It was half a mile away. Her horse was slowing, breath exploding out of his distended nostrils. He was tiring to the point where he would drop from a gallop into a trot. No! Rachel dug her heels into his foaming flanks, but the horse grunted. It lurched forward, wobbling on weakening legs. Up ahead, she saw Ty’s horse stagger, its head down, mouth open. They were in serious trouble.
Whipping his horse, Ty forced it back into a gallop. The animal careened drunkenly. And then freezing horror rushed through him. Another group of horsemen galloped toward them from the opposite direction. Taliban or friendly? There was no way to tell. The sky was empty. A horrible, sinking feeling moved through him.
Suddenly, his horse stumbled, and Ty flew out of the saddle.
Rachel gave a cry of terror as she saw Ty’s horse collapse beneath him. It hurtled over him and then landed nearby. Yanking her horse to a stop, Rachel leaped off, reins in hand.
“Ty!” He was laying still, arms outstretched, on his belly.
No! Oh, God, no! Let him be alive!
Rachel knelt down and gripped his shoulder. “Ty! Ty, are you all right?”
She lifted her head. Two groups of horsemen came at a high gallop toward them from opposite directions. Gasping, she jerked her attention back to Ty. He was moving.
“Ty! Are you all right? Talk to me.”
Groaning, Ty sat up. Blood ran down his left temple. “I’m okay.…” He got to his knees and saw his horse lying nearby. The animal had heroically continued until he could go no farther.
Rachel leaped up and yelled, “Come on! We’ll ride my horse!” She held out her hand to him.
Within seconds, Ty was back on his feet. He saw the Taliban approaching swiftly. But as he glanced at the southern part of the valley, he saw an equal amount of horsemen would be arriving shortly. His mind spun with what they could do. Rachel jumped into the saddle. She held her hand out, and he swiftly mounted the horse behind her.
“Make a run for the trail!” he yelled.
The echo of gunfire started. Ty knew they were within range of the Talibans’ bullets.
Kicking the tired horse, Rachel felt terrible that she was asking the animal to give its all. It lurched into a wobbling trot. The trail was only a quarter of a mile away. The horsemen from the south drew closer and closer. It had to be Taliban. She knew the Taliban were always in touch by phone or cell phone. Chances were, the group chasing them into the cave had called their cohorts, who were already in the valley. Together, they were creating a pincer’s movement that would crush them. In a few minutes, they would be dead. The thought scared her as nothing else ever would. The horse was wobbling badly. Suddenly, the animal grunted and collapsed.
Rachel was thrown over the horse’s head. She heard the animal hit the ground. Closing her eyes, she rolled after hitting the grass. Stunned, Rachel opened her eyes after she’d stopped moving. The sky was a powdery blue above her. And empty. No Apache was coming to save them. Her heart sank as she scrambled to her feet. She saw Ty lurching up, shaken.
For a moment, they looked at one another. The rifle fire was exploding all around them. A bullet had hit her horse. That was why it had fallen. And it was dead. So were they. Gripping the .45, she yelled at Ty, “Get behind this horse! It’s our only cover!”
Leaping behind the body of the horse, they flattened on their bellies, their pistols drawn. Both had taken the two extra magazines and laid them nearby. Ty lay so close he could feel Rachel against him. There wasn’t much cover behind the small, dead horse. Breathing hard, he positioned his hands on the belly of the animal.
“They’re within half a mile. We should wait,” Ty rasped. Otherwise, their bullets could go wild. The closer the enemy, the better they could aim at them. A half a mile was too far for their pistols.
“Right,” Rachel choked, breathing hard. She jerked over at Ty. “I want you to know, I forgive you for everything.”
The words hit him hard. Ty managed a twisted smile. Her hair was dirty, her face sweaty, stained with dust. “Thanks. I think you’re one hell of a woman. I’m proud to be here at your side.”
The bullets spit up dust on either side of the horse. They watched the horsemen from the south start firing, their rifles winking red and yellow. The Taliban from the north thundered toward them at high speed.
Rachel choked and sobbed. She held on to Ty’s narrowed blue gaze. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Ty. I like you.… I was falling in love with you.…”
The words slammed into Ty, shocking him. Tears shimmered in her golden eyes, and her lower lip trembled softly. Yes, he realized, he was falling helplessly in love with this courageous warrior woman. Reaching out with his injured left arm, he gripped her shoulder for a moment. “No matter what happens, just know I love you, Rachel. I have ever since I met you again.…”
Their words to one another were cut off. Several bullets whined overhead. Ty released her shoulder and wrapped his h
ands around his pistol. Now, they were within target range. He could see the leader, his black eyes filled with hatred, his horse flying toward them, his rifle raised.
Rachel felt her world slowing down to single frames. She had felt this same sensation when she had nearly drowned in the ocean as a child and then during her most recent brush with death. Her whole life was movie slides, and she looked at each one of them. Even though her focus was on the swiftly approaching Taliban, everything seemed to crawl. She saw the saddle leather design on the sweating, foamy horses of the their enemy. She saw each face, the hatred and felt it score her like a bullet would. Mouth tightening, Rachel felt her heart slow down into a powerful, thudding beat. She watched as the horsemen approached. She sighted on the leader. Her hand bucked. The bullet missed him, but it struck his horse. In an instant, the horse crashed to the ground, the leader flying over him. She heard firing next to her. She knew Ty was shooting now, as well. As Ty’s bullet took him out and the man went flying out of his saddle, there was a surprised look on his face.
As a bullet whined by her ear, Rachel calmly sighted on another Taliban. She fired two bullets. The second one hit the man who had assumed the lead. The thunder of the horses’ hooves now shook the ground. She could feel the reverberation. Every time they fired their pistols, it sounded like major explosions to Rachel. She felt out of her body, every sound amplified painfully against her ringing ears.
A bullet dug into the dead horse they lay behind. Rachel knew that trying to fire accurately from a moving horse was damn near impossible. As the Taliban rode toward them, their bullets flew wildly around them. In comparison, Rachel and Ty’s shots were deadly accurate.
By the time the Taliban had arrived, six of the men and two of their horses were dead. Rachel saw the hatred toward them as the Taliban reached within a hundred feet of their position. They were aiming their rifles now, as their horses milled and panicked. She kept on firing. Her hand bucked every time the .45 barked. It felt as if she were in a shooting gallery, her focus only on the enemy she wanted to kill before they killed her.
Ty slammed another magazine into his .38. He heard the slow, systematic crack of Rachel’s .45 next to him. He didn’t see her, his focus on the enemy now trying to pick them off. The horse’s body took so many hits he lost count. Several bullets passed close to his head. Yet, he kept his aim. His training as an Apache gunship pilot allowed him that extraordinary ability. More Taliban fell.
A third Taliban horse went down. The man leaped off, drew his sword and screamed. In a second, he was charging them. Giving a cry, Rachel aimed at the enemy. With one shot, she killed him. He fell two feet in front of their dead horse. Sobbing, she took her last magazine and slammed it into the .45. They were going to die!
Suddenly, Ty saw the Taliban firing over their heads. At what? He twisted around and his eyes rounded. The group of horsemen he’d thought were also Taliban were firing but not at them. At the enemy! Relief sang through him when he realized it must be a friendly group of horsemen, who just happened to be in the valley at the right time.
Turning, he noticed another Taliban soldier whose horse had fallen leap up. This one had an AK-47. He sprayed at them wildly, the bullets flying everywhere. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rachel get to her knees, holding her gun out from her body, with both hands, her face a mask of concentration. Her hand bucked once, twice. And then, to his horror, she was shot and flung backwards. With a cry, he leaped to his knees and fired again at the enemy. The AK-47 went flying out of the soldier’s hands. A look of genuine surprise that Ty had shot him in the chest crossed his bearded face. The man screamed and fell forward, dead.
Ty was caught in a crossfire as he tried to reach Rachel. She was lying on her back, her eyes half open. The gun had fallen from her nerveless fingers. He couldn’t help her. He had to keep firing at the Taliban, who were now making a stand. In the next instant, the horsemen from the south swept up to where he was kneeling and firing. The rest of the Taliban soldiers were killed within moments. Loose, terrified horses ran around wild-eyed and panicked.
Ty recognized the leader, a man on a white Arabian stallion. He was the warlord of the northern Nuristan Province, Rahim Khan. The man was in his forties, with a black beard, dark brown eyes. He gave Ty a triumphant smile.
Turning, Ty leaped to his feet and then fell to his knees at Rachel’s side. The air erupted with cries of triumph as the horsemen swirled around the area. His heart pounded with fear as he saw where the bullet had slammed into Rachel’s chest, the fabric frayed where it had entered.
“Rachel?” he rasped, leaning over her, his hand on her arm. “Are you okay?” He knew she wore the Kevlar vest. Had it stopped the bullet? Frantically, Ty searched for blood in the area of the wound. He found none. Gasping for breath, his fingers trembling, he touched her pale cheek. “Rachel, look at me.”
Slowly, Rachel turned and looked up at him. Her hand moved and she touched her chest. The look in his eyes was one of a man who loved his woman. A man who was frantic with anxiety over her condition. “Damn…” she muttered, touching the bullet hole. “That hurts like hell.…”
“You’re all right? Any other wounds?” he demanded, looking up. He saw the leader dismount and walk toward them. “Are you okay?” Ty demanded urgently.
“I’ll live. Help me up,” Rachel said, holding out her hand. Within seconds, Ty’s warm, strong hand wrapped around hers. He helped her sit up and then moved his body against her back so she could lean on him.
“The Kevlar stopped the bullet,” he said, his lips near her ear as he kept a hand on her slumped shoulder.
Giving a slight chuckle, Rachel said, “Yes, it did.”
“So,” the leader boomed, “you decided to take on these miserable, flea-bitten dogs alone?”
Rachel looked up, her hand pressed to her chest. “Yes, sir, we did. Thanks for saving us.”
“I’m Rahim Khan.”
“Yes,” Ty told him, his hand on Rachel’s shoulder, “we know who you are. Thanks for saving us.”
Chuckling, the leader came and knelt down on one knee and critically studied Rachel. “I would say,” he murmured with a grin, “that the two of you would probably have won this fight without us.”
Rachel shook her head. “No, sir, we wouldn’t have.” She gestured to the two empty clips near their dead horse. “We were out of ammo.”
“It would have been a hand-to-hand combat situation,” Ty grimly agreed.
“Still,” Rahim said, looking at the bullet hole in Rachel’s clothing, “you gave a good account of yourself. What were you doing out here on horseback? I received a call from Bravo Camp that you were out here. We happened to be in the area. In fact, we were coming to meet with Captain Shaheen up at Samarigam. I told your Major Klein that we could render you aid.”
Rachel rubbed her chest. The bullet had been stopped by her chicken plate. She would never again curse wearing her Kevlar vest. The stinging sensation was beginning in earnest now and it hurt like hell. “That’s why they didn’t send an Apache to help us,” she told Ty.
Rahim laughed. “No, my friends, that’s not true. There were no Apaches to send. They are all assigned to other areas. The major had nothing to help you out.” He grinned and thumped his chest. “And so, it came down to us. We might not fly one of those wonderful machines, but I have loyal, faithful men who would follow me to hell and back.” He gestured grandly to the men on horseback, who now surrounded them. A booming cheer arose from his comrades.
Ty divided his attention between Rachel and the warlord. He refused to allow her to try and stand up just yet. “We’re grateful for your assistance,” he told Khan. The leader appeared very pleased.
“Without you,” Rachel added, “we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Maybe you would be at the gates of heaven,” Khan agreed, more serious now.
“How are you feeling?” Ty demanded. Rachel looked pale, her eyes shadowed.
“My chest hurts. It was
numb at first, but now it feels like it’s on fire.”
“No blood, though,” he said, again examining her flight suit where the bullet had entered.
“No…just pain. I’ll be okay.” Rachel glanced up at Ty. Even though her heart was pounding with adrenaline, she felt his care and love. Her mind spun with such shock that it was impossible to deal with it all right then. “We can use my radio and call into base.”
Ty nodded and opened the pocket on her left leg. “Yeah, we need to do that.”
Rachel felt relief drench her. Khan had an extra mount with him. One of his soldiers brought up the sturdy black horse. It would be their transportation back to the village atop the mountain. She listened to Ty speaking with Major Klein. There was relief in her voice, too. She took a few moments to close her eyes, pushing back the tears. Their families would be notified that they were alive and safe. That would be the best news possible. Sniffing, she opened her eyes. As she looked over at Ty, she swore she saw tears in his eyes, too. But just for a moment. He handed her the radio.
“Feel like standing?”
Holding out her hand, she whispered, “Yes. Let’s get to that village.”
Ty gently eased her to her feet. Rachel wobbled for a moment. He slid his hand around her shoulders to steady her. She raised her hand and tried to get rid of some of the grass and dust in her hair. So typical of a woman, but his heart swelled with such love for her that he almost cried. They were alive! Once at the horse, which was held by a soldier, he boosted her up onto the saddle. Then he climbed up behind her. In no time, the group left the field of battle and started the steep climb up to Samarigam.
As Ty rode, his arms around Rachel’s waist, his whole world was on a tilt. They’d said some things to each other during the heat of battle. The admissions had come pouring out because they thought they were going to die. Did Rachel mean what she’d said? That she loved him? The shock of that statement rolled through him. And then he couldn’t help admitting that he loved her back. How was all of this possible? How had bitter enemies wound up loving one another? Maybe it was out of shock. When facing death, people did funny things they’d never do in day-to-day life.
His Duty to Protect Page 15
