Chilled and lonely, Devon crawled into her bunk dressed in her flight suit.
Determined to sleep, she shut her eyes and willed away the memory of being in Cam’s heavenly arms.
She’d never known such exquisite torment.
The images in her head were a great distraction from worrying about him, but it didn’t help quiet her busy mind.
She tossed and turned, but finally exhaustion pulled her under.
A hand landed on her shoulder.
Her eyes flew open, blinking to adjust in the darkness.
“What?” she whispered, staring up into Candace’s shadowed face.
“Your radio’s going off.”
It was?
Devon sat up and groped beneath her pillow.
Sure enough, a message came through telling her to get to the hangar ASAP.
“God,” she muttered, fighting the cobwebs in her brain.
“Apparently you’re first up crew now.”
“Okay.” The original first up crew must have been called out.
If not for Candace, she would have slept right through and maybe missed a mission.
Yanking on her boots, she ran her fingers through her hair and grabbed her sidearm.
She shoved it into a shoulder holster and pulled it on over her flight suit.
“Thanks for waking me,” she said to Candace on her way to the door.
“You bet.
Be careful out there if you get called out,” she said over a yawn.
“Will do.”
The instant she opened the door, a shroud of gray surrounded her.
She stilled on the top step, her heart starting a painful thud against her chest wall.
The fog was so thick she could barely see the next row of B-huts where Will was lodged.
Was he up already?
He’d be worried about the fog too.
Dread snaked up her spine.
It was like walking back two months in time to the night Ty died.
Would the visibility be as bad out there now if she had to fly?
Forcing her legs into motion, she left the hut, shivering beneath her jacket in the cold pre-dawn air as she jogged over to the ready room.
Relax.
It’s not like you’ve been called out.
You’re just on standby—
The radio crackled.
“Nine-line, nine-line, nine-line.”
“Shit,” she breathed, and ran.
This was it.
She was going out in a few minutes.
Somewhere above the fog the sky was still dark, but soon it would turn from inky black to a rich indigo as the sun crept up toward the horizon.
She wanted to be back before the sun came up to avoid any unfriendly troops on the ground.
Inside, Will was already suiting up and looked over his shoulder with a grin.
“Hey, sleeping beauty.”
“Hey, sorry.
I was out like a light.” She donned her Escape and Evasion vest, checking to make sure she had her flares and mini flashlight, and that her hand-held radio had fresh batteries.
“Know what’s up?”
“I’m just the co-pilot,” he pointed out.
“They don’t tell me jack.”
She checked her watch.
“Any word on the visibility?”
Will met her gaze, his guarded expression telling her he was thinking the same thing she was.
“It’s bad out there.”
Didn’t matter how bad it was this time.
They were going.
“Okay, I’ll find out what the scoop is.”
“Meet you on the bird.”
“See you in a few.”
Grabbing her knee board and helmet, she hurried from the room fastening her survival vest.
A flight commander was waiting for her when she reached the ready room, but there were no other pilots.
Was she the only aircraft going out?
Feeling like an idiot, she nodded to the commander.
“Crawford here, sir.” She glanced between him and the brown-haired man dressed in a flight suit seated at the table.
She could feel his intensity from across the room.
Was he a pilot?
She didn’t see any wings on his suit, and she didn’t recognize him.
He wasn’t as tall as her commander, but he was broader through the chest and shoulders, his forearms thick with muscle beneath his rolled-up sleeves.
His features were almost harsh, and his pale blue eyes regarded her carefully.
Like he was sizing her up.
Or questioning her ability to handle a flight in reduced visibility.
A moment’s unease gripped her.
Had he read her file?
He held her gaze for a moment longer, then finally gave her a half smile.
“Do you know Master Sergeant McCall?” her commander asked.
“No, sir.”
“We were short, so he’s volunteered to be your medic for this mission.
And you’re lucky to have him because he’s with the 160th.”
A Night Stalker.
That would explain the laser-like intensity of his stare.
“Sir,” she said to McCall with a respectful nod.
He returned the courtesy.
What kind of mission was important enough to warrant a Night Stalker medic going with her?
Her heart beat a little faster.
The commander handed her the printed nine-line to read.
Target location, call signs and radio frequencies.
Number of patients and their status.
Equipment needed.
“A group of Marines got into trouble during a night-time reconnaissance operation,” the Major explained as she read.
“Their lead vehicle hit an IED on a road in the middle of a gulley, and they got ambushed from all sides.
They’ve got seven wounded, four that need a lift out.
Three of those are critical.
None are ambulatory.
They’ve established a secure perimeter for now, but those three boys need to come out now, and more like yesterday.”
“Yes sir.
We’ll be using a carousel then?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at McCall.
“Can you work back there with a full carousel?”
“I’ll make do.” He didn’t sound happy about it, and she wasn’t surprised.
Crews hated the cumbersome equipment because it left them no room to work.
Her commander pulled out a map and together they went over possible waypoints.
“Intel reports enemy activity to the northwest of your LZ,” he added.
“As of fifteen minutes ago visibility was poor, but the winds should clear the fog enough for you to see the ground by the time you arrive.
Your armed escort is being re-routed to meet you there.”
“Yes sir.” She made notes about the terrain and coordinates, and possible landing sites if they ran into bad weather.
Armed with the info she needed, Devon and the medic ran out to the Black Hawk.
Less than ten minutes had passed since she’d heard the nine-line call.
Parked out on the tarmac, Will already had the bird’s rotors turning.
“Where’s my crew chief?” she shouted over the noise of the engines.
McCall nodded over her left shoulder.
“Right there.”
Devon glanced over and saw the soldier sticking his head out of the cabin.
“Morning, Sergeant,” she called out.
“Ma’am.” He nodded at McCall, who was lifting a cooler into the cabin.
Knowing they were carrying whole blood on the mission told her how dire the situation was.
If she didn’t make it in to evacuate the wounded, they would probably die.
She would not let that happen.
The young crew chief’s eyes were warm as he smiled at her.
She was glad he’d dropped the stilted formality.
“Got a message from someone named Cam through the grapevine.
He said to take extra good care of you.”
“Did he?” She forced a smile and strapped on her helmet as she climbed into the left-hand seat and took her position as pilot commander.
Whatever happened from here out, it was her responsibility.
Sadiq could barely make out the man ahead of him through the encroaching fog.
It was more oppressive than the snow that had obscured their vision at the start of the march.
And twice as eerie.
He shivered beneath the folds of his coat and shifted his rifle higher up on his back.
“Is it true?” a voice rasped behind him.
He fought the urge to turn around and shove Khalid away from him.
Bastard had an irritating habit of sneaking up on him, and he moved like a predator.
Swift and silent on his feet.
Sadiq prayed for patience.
“Is what true?”
“That a group of Marines got themselves blown up?”
“Yes.” The night before, some of the men had laid pressure sensitive explosives in the only road leading out of the small valley ahead.
“And we’re going to finish the rest of them off?”
What a freaking idiot.
“No,” he said, trying not to grind his molars together.
“We’ll probably set up an ambush and wait for the reinforcements to arrive.”
“Is that your educated Cambridge opinion?
Or do you know something the rest of us don’t?”
“You should know by now that’s the general’s preferred method of attack.
We have to coordinate our forces carefully to offset the enemy’s superior firepower.”
Khalid’s laugh was low and full of evil delight.
It skittered down Sadiq’s spine like fingernails scraped over a blackboard, raising the hair on the backs of his arms.
“Must be nice to be included in the general’s trusted circle.
Makes me wonder what you did to earn your place there.”
Ignore him.
Sooner or later he’ll get bored and walk away
.
But it was damn hard to keep the bugger from getting under his skin.
Khalid dropped his voice to a low, oily murmur.
“It’s said the general has a taste for handsome young men, especially if they’re educated.
Perhaps that’s the secret behind why he favors you.”
“Sod off,” Sadiq snapped.
He could ignore the moral smear to his own name, but how dare Khalid insult the general in such a way?
Nasrallah was a man of God, and a devout Muslim.
He would never engage in such filth.
“Spreading disgusting rumors like that might get you killed.”
“Why so defensive?” he purred.
“Have I hit too close to the truth?”
It was Sadiq’s own fault that he’d let the bastard know he’d hit a nerve.
“Shut up and spend the rest of the march preparing yourself for what we’re going to do.”
He almost stumbled when he felt the unmistakable shape of Khalid’s rifle muzzle pressed into his spine.
“You should heed your own advice.
While we march you might want to prepare yourself for the next life, my brother.
Battles can get confusing.
Shots can go astray even in the middle of the clearest day.
But with this fog…” He tutted softly.
The implied threat made the bottom of Sadiq’s stomach drop out, but he didn’t respond or look over his shoulder.
He was almost certain Khalid was merely getting his kicks tormenting him.
But he was more than capable of murdering him in cold blood, Sadiq realized.
Those dead yellow eyes testified to that.
Trying to appear unaffected, he reached behind him to slap the muzzle of the weapon away and quickly lengthened his stride.
Not for the first time, Sadiq found himself hoping an enemy shell would find the bastard and blow him to hell where he belonged.
Moving briskly, he passed the others in the column and joined the general and his top aides at the front.
“Sadiq.” Nasrallah acknowledged him with a nod.
“How are the men’s spirits?”
“High, sir.
How much farther until we get into position?”
“Another kilometer or so.
We haven’t been able to confirm everything for certain on the radio because all their frequencies are encrypted.
But my men report the Marines have enough badly wounded to ensure them calling in air evacuation.”
Sadiq tucked his hands beneath his armpits as he trudged along.
His rifle bumped against his spine.
“Do you want the rockets ready, then?”
The general glanced over at him, his eyes warm with affection.
Sadiq told himself it was the fatherly sort, but Khalid’s hateful words changed the look in the older man’s eyes into the possibility of something ugly and disturbing.
“You know me well.”
Increasingly uncomfortable under the intensity of that stare, Sadiq looked away and squinted into the fog bank.
“Shall I pass the word along to the others?”
“No.
Only mention that they should be listening for the sounds of aircraft as we get closer.
Fixed wing of course, but rotary wing as well.
In this weather, we’ll hear them long before we see them.”