Deadly Descent (22 page)

McCall answered.
“I already tried mine, and so did the chief.
Our position must be interfering with the signal because we can’t get through.”

If Ryan and Cam had seen them and were close enough, they would already be on their way to help.
The knowledge eased her mind.
She tightened her grip on her weapon and stared out at the places the enemy might pop out from.
She was a goddamn captain in the U.S.
Army, and she would do her duty.
All she and the others had to do was hold on until a rescue team got there.

Sadiq’s legs were heavy with fatigue when he made it up to the last rise.
The rifle in his hands seemed to weigh twice what it had when he’d started out.
But he was almost there.
The downed chopper lay somewhere in the next canyon, just beyond the ridge he climbed.
The strange numbness had disappeared somewhere along the hurried march.
The excitement coming from the men was contagious.
As he climbed, he forgot the weariness in his sore muscles.
So close.
In another few minutes they would be able to see exactly what had become of the crew.

Someone called his name.
He looked up ahead and found one of the general’s advisors waving him over.
The man’s expression was animated.
Tense with anticipation.
With a sudden burst of energy, Sadiq hurried up the line to meet him.

“The general wants to see you.”

He must have found them, Sadiq thought, and rushed forward.
He found Nasrallah perched behind cover on the top of the ridge, taking in the view before them with his high-powered binoculars.
“Sadiq,” he acknowledged, holding out a welcoming arm.

He hesitated the slightest instant before closing the distance between them.
Nasrallah clapped him on the shoulder and brought him in tight with a one-armed hug.
Sadiq fought the urge to pull away from the embrace.
There was nothing illicit in the gesture.
He was being paranoid, and it irritated him that he’d let Khalid poison his view of the general.

“Excellent aim.” Nasrallah’s light brown eyes sparkled.
“I thought you might like to see your work firsthand.”

Sadiq accepted the binoculars.
Looking through them, he quickly zeroed in on the ruined helicopter.
Its black body lay twisted and mangled, still smoking where it had smashed into the ground against the towering cliff wall.
He stared into the fuselage, searching for the bodies.
He frowned.
“I don’t see the crew.”

“No.
They’ve evacuated the area.”

His head whipped up.
“They’re still alive?” It seemed unlikely from looking at the damaged aircraft.

“For now.” The general’s lips tipped up at the corners.
“Only for now, my boy.”

Sadiq went back to scanning the area.
His eyes caught on something in the light dusting of snow covering the ground near the chopper.
His heart leapt.
“I see tracks.”

“Heading around the side of the cliff,” Nasrallah confirmed.
“But they couldn’t have gone far after a crash like that.” He sounded certain.
Sadiq didn’t question his judgment.
The general was an expert when it came to aircraft and their weaknesses.
“Walk with me while we move out.”

Sadiq wasn’t about to argue, and continued the march.
The ground was even rougher here that it had been when he’d fired the RPG.
Gripping a slippery boulder with his gloved hands, he strained to pull his body up to the next foothold in the trail.
Gaining his footing, he reached a hand down to help the next man.
A strong hand gripped his forearm as he curled his fingers around the sturdy wrist.
The man tipped his face upward.

The instant he met the yellow gaze looking up at him, he wanted to let go.
Khalid’s harsh mouth curled in amusement, as though he knew what he was thinking.
Sadiq hauled him up, staying the impulse to wipe his hand against his leg.
Just touching Khalid made him feel soiled.
He moved away without a word.

Excited chatter broke out in the front.
Several men clustered about the general.
Sadiq rushed over.
“What is it?”

“See for yourself.” Nasrallah handed him the binoculars.

Sadiq peered in the direction the general indicated.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
“The crew!”

“Yes.
At least four of them.
Maybe more, hidden beyond that cliff.”

They were too far away to get an accurate shot off.
They’d have to move in closer to have any hope of hitting them.
Sadiq tightened the focus of the lenses, vividly aware of Khalid sidling up next to him.
He stepped closer to the edge of the trail, being careful to stay behind cover.
The binoculars were incredible.
Even at this distance he could see the facial features of some of the survivors.
“Three of them are badly wounded.” Two of them were covered in bloody bandages.
They should be easy enough targets.

“Any dead?” Khalid asked with interest.

“No.
At least I don’t think so.” He studied the rest of the group.
Where were the pilots?
“I see someone in a flight suit, but—” His tongue froze on the roof of his mouth.
His vision tunneled around the person.
Their hair was much too long to be regulation.
Nearly down to their jaw.
Much smaller than the others.
“Merciful Allah,” he breathed.
His heart pounded a frantic tattoo.
A woman.

“What?
What is it?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she turned her head and he finally got a clear view of her face.
He felt like someone had punched him in the stomach.

“See something?” the general asked, coming over.

Sadiq swallowed, wondering if he was hallucinating.
It couldn’t be her.
Could it?
He stared harder.
His heart shuddered inside his ribcage.
There was no mistaking that face.
He’d memorized every line of it since the night his brother died.
“It’s
her
.”

“Her?
A woman?” Nasrallah snatched the binoculars from him and looked for himself.
“The pilot?”

“Yes.” He could barely get the word out of his constricted throat.
His pulse pounded too fast in his neck.
The rush of blood made him dizzy and nauseated.

“You know her?”

He nodded, one hand automatically coming to rest over his heart where the photo lay.
Now he understood why Allah had made him take this journey into holy war.
“I know her.”

Nasrallah’s thick brows pulled together.
“What?
How?”

“I
know
her,” he repeated, all but shaking.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He needed to sit down.
The ground seemed to tilt beneath his cold-numbed feet.

“This changes things.”

When the words registered, Sadiq looked up at him in confusion.
“How so?”

“She’s a woman.”

Yes, they’d already established that.
“And?”

“And I won’t consider executing her.
We’ll have to capture her.”

He stared at the general.
Was he serious?

“She’ll be far more valuable as a prisoner than a corpse.”

Sadiq leaned a hand on the boulder behind him, fighting the alarm rising inside him.
He didn’t want her to live.
She had to die.
Allah would not have brought them together otherwise.

“Send the word along the line,” the general continued.
“Make sure my orders are understood.
I want her taken alive after we intercept them.”

A loud roaring filled his ears.
He stood unmoving as Nasrallah swept past him further down the trail leading down the other side of the ridge.
The pilot was connected to the medic in the photo.
He had to kill her to avenge Hassan.

“Don’t worry.”

Startled, he turned his head to look at Khalid.
For once, the sly gleam in the other man’s eyes didn’t send a shiver of foreboding up his spine.

“He might have a problem with killing a woman, but I don’t.” Khalid spat in the dirt to show his disdain.
“The general can’t control how things go in battle.
She won’t make it out of that canyon alive.
We’ll make sure of it.”

“No.
I need to be the one.” He had this final chance to exact revenge and he wasn’t going to let it slip between his fingers, no matter what the general commanded.
Or what Khalid was planning.

Something close to admiration crossed Khalid’s face.
“Then you will be.
Allah will guide you to where you need to be.”

The tightness in his chest eased.
The beginnings of a smile made the corners of his mouth twitch.
Khalid might be the most unlikely of allies, but for this mission to end successfully, he would take all the help he could get.

“Anything?” Cam asked Ryan after his fourth attempt to establish radio contact with the crew.

“Nope.
Just ops telling us they’ve got recent satellite images of about a hundred muj fighters on the other side of that ridge.”

Cam looked up at the forbidding outline of rock in the distance that concealed both the enemy and the downed crew.
She wasn’t dead.
He wouldn’t let himself think that until he saw it firsthand.
“That’ll take ‘em a long time to get over.”

“Let’s hope.”

He checked his map and compass again.
They’d only covered one kilometer in the past twenty five minutes.
The crash site was way around the other side of the cliff base they were skirting.
Craning his neck to look at the top of it, he wondered again if it would’ve been faster to climb the damn thing and rappel down the other side.

One of the SEALs out front dropped to his knee and waved a hand to the ground.
Cam instantly dropped beside Jackson and raised his weapon.
Nothing disturbed the silence.
The sun’s rays warmed his face.
He felt completely exposed out in the middle of daylight, though they’d been careful to stay concealed.

The SEAL point man walked out from his hiding spot, finished with his reconnaissance.
“No sign of the ragheads yet, but I saw the bird.”

Cam held his breath.

“It looks pretty bad.”

Ah, shit.

“Saw some tracks leading away from it, though.”

His heart leaped.
Somebody was still alive.
He prayed to God it was Devon.

“Saddle up, boys,” the commander said.
They all fell back into line.

“Keep trying them,” Cam said to Ryan.

“I will.
She’s there, man.
I know she is.”

The urgency screamed at him to run, to throw caution aside and sprint the rest of the way.
They were taking too long to reach them.

“Almost there,” Ryan said, guessing his thoughts.

Cam jogged along behind the others with Jackson, desperate to go faster, but rushing now would put them all at risk.
He’d know soon enough what waited for him on the other side of the cliff.

Devon watched the crew chief anxiously.
“Keep trying.
They’ve got to be attempting to contact us.
They might have eyes on us.” Maybe Ryan or another ground team, or maybe a satellite or Predator drone.

“You sure this is the right frequency?” the sergeant asked her, staring doubtfully at his handheld radio.

“I’m positive.”

He opened his mouth to say something else when the radio crackled to life.
Devon set her weapon down and listened intently.
Her heart pounded as she stared at the medic.
A voice.
She was certain she’d heard the blip of a voice in there somewhere.
The radio went quiet again.
“Did you catch anything?”

“No.” He glared at the thing in disgust and fiddled with the frequency knob.
“Just more static.
Damn rocks are blocking the frequency.”

McCall loped over and knelt next to them.
“Got something?”

“We think so.” She held out her hand to the medic.
“Let me try—”

The radio crackled again.
The chief held it up to his ear, frowning in concentration.
A soft hissing noise came through, then a garbled voice.
“…copy…read?”

“We read you,” he answered loudly.
“But barely.
You read us?”

Nothing.
He met her eyes and shook his head in frustration.

“They must have heard something.
They’ve got to be close.” She’d never known hope could be so painful.
It felt like a helium balloon inflating in her chest, pressing on her lungs and heart.

McCall took the radio and keyed it.
“I say again, this is Angel-one niner.
Anyone copy?”

More hissing.
Then, “Roger that, Angel-one…”

Her heart twisted painfully at the sound of that voice.
“It’s Ryan!” She grabbed for the radio and pressed down on the button.
“Ryan!
You there?” More dead air.
She looked up at the chief with a grin.
“They’re coming for us.”

“Yeah, but when?” He nodded over his shoulder at the ridge behind them.
“That’s the only thing separating us from the fuckers that shot us down.”

“And damn good thing too,” McCall said.
“Let’s get everyone ready to move outta here.” He looked at her.
“Can you make it without help?”

“I can hop.
Don’t worry about me, just carry the wounded out first and I’ll do the best I can.” They were going to have their hands full as it was.
She’d have to find a way to manage on her own.
If she had to crawl out on her hands and knees for kilometers on end, so be it.

“If help doesn’t get here before we have to move, I’ll come back for you ASAP.”

“Okay.” She smiled at him with more courage than she felt.
When he and the chief left to tend to the critically wounded Marines, she dragged herself over to Will.
He was resting quietly from the dose of morphine he’d been given, and the IV fluids draining into him would offset the blood loss.
She laid a hand on his arm and he opened his eyes weakly.
“The cavalry’s on its way, Will.
You’ll be back at Bagram in no time to phone your wife and girls.”

“Okay,” he mumbled weakly and closed his eyes.
She stayed perched next to him, finger on the trigger guard of her rifle and her senses tuned for any sign of a threat.
She prayed help got to them soon so they could get to a better location and call in for an evac.
If the militants reached them first, they’d have to fight their way out on the run.

“Shhh!”

The sharp whisper made her eyes dart over to McCall, who knelt rigidly with his weapon raised.
She rolled painfully to her belly and did the same, flicking the selector to semi-auto and aiming at the gap in the rocks.
She didn’t think about what she was doing, or that she’d never fired a weapon in combat.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
Shit, she hadn’t heard a thing.
Had the enemy snuck up on them?
She swallowed hard, thankful Will wasn’t awake.
They were completely outnumbered and without reinforcements.
But if anyone came at them, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

A tense silence settled over them.
Cold sweat broke out over her face and under her arms.
Every muscle drew tight to the point of pain.
Her finger tightened on the trigger guard.
Then a clear voice startled her.

“Who’s the best wide receiver of all time?”

Pressed against the other side of the cliff and panting from the prolonged run with all his gear weighing him down, Cam held his breath.
Waiting for the answer to the authentication question based on Devon’s individual crew card information almost killed him.

“Steve Largent!” came the reply.
The sound of her voice filled him with relief.

Right answer
.
His heart pounded hard against his ribs and he felt dizzy.
“It’s her,” he said to the SEAL.
“It’s Devon.” The wave of relief was so acute his knees sagged.

Then the squad leader looked over his shoulder at him and winked.
“We’ve got you covered.
Go get your girl.”

With Ryan and Jackson covering his back, he took off and cleared the edge of the cliff.
The instant he saw Devon lying among the injured his already tight throat closed up, but he kept running.
She pushed up awkwardly onto her side and held up a hand when she spotted him, her face lit with a joyous smile.
“Cam!”

A rush of pure emotion swept through his veins.
She waved her arm, trying to sit up, but couldn’t quite get there.
How bad was she hurt?
He tore over the ground, sprinting the entire distance to her, boots pounding over the snowy ground.
Reaching her, he slung his rifle across his back before dropping to his knees and carefully hauling her into his arms.
“
Dev
.” He didn’t want to ever let her go again.

She let out a watery laugh and clung just as fiercely, gripping the back of his DCUs.
“I’m okay.
I’m okay.”

He wasn’t sure if she was saying it to herself or trying to reassure him.
All he knew was he’d never been so relieved in his life.
He allowed himself to bury his face in her hair for a moment and feel her alive and safe in his arms.
Christ, he felt like crying he was so grateful that she was all right.
Giving her one last hard squeeze, he set her away and pulled off his shades before cupping her face in his hands.
He wiped at the tears, his thumbs leaving dirty streaks on her dusty cheeks.
“Where are you hurt?”

She gripped his wrists and smiled up into his eyes.
“Just my left knee and some bruises.
I’m the least hurt.”

“There’s blood on your face and jacket.”

“I bit my tongue when we hit.”

He drew back when Ryan came down on one knee beside him to wrap his arms around her.
“Hey, Spike.
Damn it’s good to see you.”

“Hi,” she laughed, hugging him back.
She wiped at her face and shooed them away.
Cam moved to the next patient, wanting to be with Dev, but her injuries weren’t as critical as some of the others’.
He thought his heart would explode with pride and tenderness.
If he hadn’t been a hundred percent certain before, now he knew for sure he was in love with her.
“I’ll check your knee in a little while.”

She nodded and shifted onto her side, and he knew from the pained expression on her face she was hurting a hell of a lot more than she was letting on.
He couldn’t do anything for her right now though.
He had to triage the others first.
Before they could get the hell out of there he and Jackson had to patch up the wounded and stabilize the critical cases.
“What’s his status?” he asked her, indicating the co-pilot lying on a litter in a patch of shade close to her.
Keeping her involved would help stave off any depression and shock that commonly occurred after surviving a crash.

Her answer was clear and decisive.
“Compound fracture of the right femur, but he’s not bleeding too badly now.
They gave him some fluids and a dose of morphine, I think.
He’s been sleeping mostly since.”

Cam nodded as he conducted his own quick assessment of the leg.
Blood loss was minimal and the limb was stabilized.
Good enough for now.
“What about the others?” He glanced up.
Jackson was already tending to one of the other wounded farther down the cliff’s base.

“I think they’re in pretty bad shape, but no one’s told me anything specific.”

He squeezed her shoulder once before climbing to his feet.
“I’ll be back soon.” Hating to leave her, he hurried to the other wounded and took stock of the situation.
One Marine was dead.
They’d already covered his body and face with a blanket.
The other two were definitely critical.
He knelt beside Jackson, who was getting ready to administer some of the O negative blood he’d brought.
“How are their vitals?”

“They’re deep in shock.
This one’s pulse is thready and rapid.
The other one’s steadier, but they both need blood and an OR, stat.”

Cam checked the Marine closest to him.
The soldier was unconscious from blood loss due to the blast wounds he’d suffered to his lower body.
He was missing a foot.
Two tourniquets were wrapped around his lower thighs to stem the worst of the bleeding, but shrapnel had torn chunks of flesh from all over his legs and a few from his belly beneath the edge of his bullet proof vest.
Portions of his skin were blistered.

Cam dressed the worst of the burns and added another bag of saline solution to his IV before pushing in some Hemospan to counteract hypovolemic shock until Jackson could add a unit of blood for him.
The last Marine had second and third degree burns on his legs, arms and face.
Poor bastard was still conscious, and in a shitload of pain.
Cam checked the time mark next to the M on his forehead.
If he could get another dose of morphine…From between clenched teeth a deep, constant growl came from the man’s swollen throat.