Devon jumped when the first round hit.
It impacted with the dirt a few dozen yards to her right, and ricocheted off a boulder before burying itself in the cliff face.
She instinctively rolled onto her stomach, but Cam was there.
He flattened himself atop her back and shielded her head with his arms.
Another round hit, answered by a burst of semi-automatic fire.
The SEALs were already returning fire on the enemy position.
Devon squeezed her eyes shut and fought back the scream crowding her dry throat.
The firing increased until it was almost nonstop.
Bullets kicked up puffs of dirt and snow, some close enough that it sprayed them.
Then suddenly, a lull descended.
To her the sudden quiet was almost as terrifying as the firefight.
“Go, go, go!” someone yelled.
She raised her head when Cam got off her.
What did he want her to—
“Whatever happens,” he commanded the medic, “don’t stop running.” Before she could answer he dragged her up and handed her off to McCall.
The Night Stalker threw her over his shoulder and started out at a dead run.
“Cam!” she cried, horror flooding her.
He wasn’t coming with them.
He was still kneeling in front of Will as two men picked up the co-pilot’s stretcher, guarding them with the SEALs.
Fear coiled tight as McCall carried her over the ground.
Then she saw them.
Enemy soldiers coming over the hill at them.
Swarming like locusts.
Several shots pinged off rocks close to them, but McCall’s stride never faltered.
Grappling her rifle into position, she readied it and brought it up.
She returned fire in measured bursts.
“Save your ammo!” McCall bit out.
His chest heaved as he ran.
Helpless, she lowered her weapon and stared back at Cam.
He got up and ran behind Will’s stretcher.
The SEALs moved out behind him, firing as they went to slow the advancing enemy.
And still they came.
Relentless and single-minded in their intent, bearing down on them like a tidal wave that threatened to drown them all.
Cam’s only thought as he ran and fired was protecting his wounded.
Devon and her crew were going home no matter what.
Up ahead, Ryan was already on the radio requesting air support, and it couldn’t come soon enough.
Cam had counted over forty fighters coming over the brow of that hill before he’d started running.
From the sounds of their yelling, he knew plenty more were still back there out of sight.
Up the line McCall stumbled and went to his knees.
Cam saw Devon’s face twist in agony.
Leaving the SEALs to watch their backs, he sprinted up and hoisted her over his shoulders before dragging the medic to his feet.
“Keep your head down,” he yelled at Devon.
The rush of adrenaline gave him added power as he tore over the ground.
Cresting the next rise, Ryan ducked to the side and crouched down to consult his map.
Cam saw him, but didn’t slow down.
He raced past Ryan and caught up to the guys carrying the badly burned Marine.
“Where’re we going?” one of them yelled.
“Just keep going!”
They picked up their pace and scrambled down a shallow ravine.
Cam grunted, his foot slipping at the bottom, but managed to throw himself forward and keep his balance.
Devon clung to him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.
He ran after the others, ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they were on fire.
The noise of the firing slowly died down behind them.
The stretcher bearers had stopped ahead, bent over and gasping for breath.
Clearing a group of boulders, Cam was about to yell at them to keep running when he saw why they’d stopped.
They’d run right into a fucking canyon.
It was narrow, with high walls that would be impossible to scale, let alone with so many wounded on litters.
About two hundred meters at the other end lay the only exit he could see.
His body trembled with exhaustion.
“Put me down, Cam,” Devon insisted, levering up.
He shook his head.
“No.
Have to…make it…to end.”
“Put me down.
Someone else will carry me.” Her voice was thin, laced with fear.
The others in the group stared up at him, waiting for direction.
“Go,” he ground out, jerking his chin toward the end of the canyon.
They struggled to their feet, though they had to be as tired as he was, and pressed on.
Normally Cam could run forever, but carrying someone over this terrain was pushing his body to its limit.
He couldn’t take Devon much farther without risking falling or dropping her.
“Cam!”
He slowed and turned at Ryan’s voice.
His buddy pounded toward them and stopped, bent over with his hands on his thighs.
“Spooky’s inbound,” he gasped, his huge pack bristling with radio antennas.
Thank Christ.
“The SEALs?”
“All okay.” He sucked in a couple more breaths.
“Want me to take her?”
A denial formed on his tongue, but he swallowed it.
He wasn’t going to endanger Devon just because he didn’t want to let go of her.
And he trusted Ryan to protect her with his life.
With a tight nod, he shifted his grip on her.
A bullet sliced over their heads.
“Shit.” He dropped to his knees and let her slide off his shoulders, then went one better and climbed on top of her to return fire.
She didn’t move, thank God.
She stayed pinned beneath him despite the rocks that had to be digging into her, made worse by his added weight.
Ryan was already shooting.
Cam picked off two men in front of the main body, but at this distance he doubted he’d done more than wound them.
The SEALs added their firepower.
The enemy advance wavered, then melted like snow.
Within moments they’d retreated back over the hill.
With a break in the fighting and his breath back, Cam climbed off Devon.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” she said huskily.
Her eyes were huge and shadowed with fear, but she was still keeping it together.
“Hang on, honey.
We’re going to get you out of here.”
“And you too,” she said with a hard frown.
Hopefully.
But she was the priority.
“Gotta go check on someone.” While Ryan scooped her up, he shoved to his feet and ran over to the Marine with all the burns.
The guy needed more fluids, and fast.
Cam took another bag out of his ruck and hooked it into the line.
The interosseous IV was doing beautifully despite how much the patient had been bounced around.
It enabled him to get more fluid into the patient in a short amount of time.
“Let’s go,” he told the stretcher bearers.
They started for the end of the canyon while he checked the tourniquets on the next wounded Marine’s legs.
Jackson was back with the third Marine and Will, and Cam waved the others on.
Ryan came up with Devon, and he could tell with one look at her pained grimace that her knee was killing her.
“Let me give you some morphine.”
She shook her head emphatically.
“They’re my crew and we’re probably going to be in another firefight.
I’m responsible for them and—”
“And we’ll take care of everything.”
“I don’t want anything.”
He didn’t have time to argue about it.
Biting back a retort, he set out behind Ryan, guarding their backs.
The ground was flatter here, and easier to navigate.
They made good time until a bloodcurdling yell rose up behind them.
High-pitched and eerie.
More like a wailing than a war cry.
His nape prickled.
Fuck, here they come again
.
Ryan set Dev on the ground and immediately came around to defend her.
Turbaned men appeared on the far slope, charging headlong down the hill.
From his knees Cam kept firing aimed shots until he was out of ammo and had to reload with a fresh magazine.
He shoved the thing into place and got back into the action.
He hit three men with four shots.
They all went down, but more kept on coming.
The force grew and swelled like a giant wave gathering.
“Devon, move,” he bit out.
“I’ll be right beside you, but we have to move.
Understand?”
“Yes.” She got up on her hands and knees and started crawling.
Her guttural cries of pain tore into him, but he couldn’t help her until he stopped the action.
Dammit, there were too many of them coming out of the mountains.
“Where the hell is that Spooky?” he shouted to Ryan.
“Inbound,” he yelled between shots.
“Should be on station any minute.”
Yeah, well, if the pilot didn’t get there in time, there wasn’t going to be anyone on the ground team left to defend.
Ryan’s voice was calm when he answered Cam, but his mind whirled.
Where the hell was his fucking air support?
It should have been here by now.
Cursing under his breath, he held his rifle with one hand and ripped out his radio with the other.
“Blade three, this is Stingray, do you read?” He couldn’t hear shit over the popping of the gunfire, but hopefully they could hear him on the other end.
“Blade three, do you copy?” Ducking behind a group of boulders for cover, he plugged his free ear to hear the pilot over the noise of the firefight if they responded.
He glanced up into the low cloud cover.
He couldn’t see it yet, but the Spooky had to be close.
Was it already in range?
Somebody replied, but with all the noise he couldn’t make out what they’d said.
“Say again?” No answer.
He made his voice deliberately calm and clear.
“Do you have a visual on the target yet?”
A second’s delay, then someone answered.
“Negative.
Will be on station in three minutes.”
He went dead still at the sound of the husky female voice coming through his radio.
Even with the noise of battle around him, he recognized it instantly.
He knew exactly who the pilot was.
But three minutes?
God damn.
“Copy that, Blade three.
Proceed to these coordinates.” After consulting with his map and laser range finder, he rattled the coordinates off.
Then he lobbed a smoke grenade to mark their location.
“Ground team is east of orange smoke.
Targets are approaching from our west, closing in on four hundred yards.
You are cleared to engage.
Be advised, you will encounter small arms fire.”
“Roger that, Stingray.
Blade three out.”
He set his radio on his knee and looked up at the sky.
Fuck, now Candace was in the fight, and she was going to have to come in low to get a good visual on the enemy position.
That would expose her aircraft to shoulder-fired missiles and the RPGs the enemy were only too happy to use.
He hoped to God her flares and chaff would be enough to protect the aircraft from ground-to-air missile fire.
Picking up his rifle, he glanced over at Cam.
He was lying over one of the wounded Marines, using him as a shooting platform to lay down suppressing fire.
A total pro, cool as ever under pressure.
Ryan goddamn loved him for it.
The sharp, rhythmic crack of his precise double taps carried over the din, but Ryan had no idea how effective the rounds were.
Devon was on her belly behind them, aiming her own weapon.
His training kicked into high gear.
He couldn’t focus on the firefight right now.
All he cared about was directing that Spooky to the right place and making sure he kept giving Candace accurate up-to-the-minute intel on the enemy’s position.
Every one of the service members on the ground depended on him getting it exactly right the first time.
In his job, he rarely got second chances.
He had a B-52 circling somewhere high above in a holding pattern at 40,000 feet, but the enemy was too close.
It made using the two thousand pound JDAMS on board impossible.
Damn shame.
Even one of those babies would have taken care of business nicely.
But the Spooky’s howitzers and guns were going to have to clear most of the enemy off that hill if they were going to have a chance in hell of escaping.
There was no way they could outrun a bunch of zealots on their home turf.
Not while carrying the wounded.
And neither he, Cam, Jackson nor the SEALs would quit the rescue operation until they’d either won the day or been wiped out.
The SEALs fell back.
As Ryan watched, a round hit one of them, knocking him over.
The SEAL got up but he was moving slow.
His buddies immediately moved into a protective formation around him.
“Munro!” Ryan yelled.
“I see him!” During the next lull, Cam got up and ran over, staying low to the ground.
Ryan aimed his weapon at the slope and prepared for the next wave of the attack.
He glanced at Cam to see fresh blood staining his hands and uniform.
Shit.
The SEAL was hurt bad.
Now they had one more person to carry.
The pot shots started again.
Sporadic at first, but growing in intensity.
This time the shooters stayed hidden among the rocks to give them better protection.
Wouldn’t be long before they mounted another full-out assault.
Crazy bastards never knew when to call it a day.
But then, neither did he.
Or his teammates.
More shots whizzed past him, and his radio chirped.
“Blade three on station.
Target acquired.”
Fucking A
.
“Roger that.” Tilting his head back, he made out the silhouette of the Spooky as it broke through the cloud deck.
He couldn’t hear the drone of the props over the shooting, but he was ecstatic to see it.
“Incoming!” he yelled.
Everyone hunkered down, and moments later the big aircraft came roaring in.
The men on the hill fired a few RPGs at it, but the gunship launched its countermeasures.
They lit up the midday sky with brilliant white fireworks and trails of smoke.
Descending even lower, it banked once in a final turn and opened up with its Gatling guns.
The big rounds plowed into the ground with a throaty roar among the enemy.
Bodies fell everywhere.
“Yeah!” He grinned up at the airplane as it swept past overhead.
“That’s a direct hit,” he confirmed on the radio.
“Roger that.
Banking to make another pass.”
Hell yeah.
Another pass or two like that and they’d be able to crawl out of the canyon if they wanted to.
Devon risked raising her head as the gunship approached for the second time.
The first enemy wave on that hill was decimated.
Dead or probably wishing they were, writhing on the snow-patched ground.
A sense of unreality hit her.
She shook herself.
Oh no you don’t.
You’re not going to get all shocked-out in the middle of this firefight.
She bit the inside of her cheek to counteract the numbness, and forced herself to focus on the remaining targets left scrambling up the hill.
Will stirred beside her.
Was he awake?
With the SEALs all busy, he lay undefended and helpless.
She had to protect him.
Using her elbows, she clawed her way over the short distance to him and laid across his belly like Cam was doing with one of the other wounded.
Her co-pilot jerked awake, staring at her with startled brown eyes.
When he saw the plane coming in above them, his mouth fell open.
“Stay still,” she told him, staring down the barrel of her rifle.
The men on the hill had scattered like dry leaves in a gust of wind.
Were they all gone?
Must be a cave or something she couldn’t see in the hills, because there were fewer bodies than she’d expected.
Her heart thudded hard.
Something caught her eye.
There.
Someone was coming out of the rocks.
The muzzle of his rifle swung out.
Letting out the breath she’d been holding, she fired.
“Hit him?” Will managed.
She licked her lips, squinting at the militant’s unmoving body.
She ignored the guilt trying to worm its way into her conscience.
Was he dead?
“He’s down.”
Now stay down, damn you.
Leave us the hell alone.
She looked around to find out where the others were.
Ryan was still over next to Cam, talking on the radio.
She hoped he was calling for another strike.
She’d love to have the main body of the enemy force cleared off before they had to move again.
The Spooky’s infrared sensors would pick up on any remaining enemy heat signatures.
Sure enough, the aircraft did a big circle and came back.
“Incoming!” Ryan yelled again.
She immediately flopped over Will’s torso and covered his head.
He gripped her upper arms tight.
“You hold on, Will.
Think of your girls.”
The Spooky didn’t open up with its guns this time.
It fired a missile.
She braced and shut her eyes as the warhead streaked through the air with a shrill scream and impacted with the side of the hill.
The explosion ripped apart the quiet.
She raised her head.
Rock and debris shot up into the air like an earthen geyser.
The shockwave rippled through the ground and rattled her teeth.
Blood rushed in her throbbing ears.
She lifted her upper body away from Will.
Nothing moved up on the leveled hill.
Only a plume of smoke trailed up into the clear air.
In the sudden stillness the noise of battle faded abruptly, and when she moved her head back to look into the sky the Spooky was winging away overhead.
Was it leaving, or turning around?
She prayed it had finished off most of the enemy.
Approaching footsteps made her look over her shoulder.
Cam crossed the ground between them, an amused grin on his face.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
Unless he was happy because the enemy had just been blown to hell, she couldn’t think of any reason why he should be smiling.
Her heart was still galloping in overtime, but he looked like he was on the verge of laughing.
“Nothing,” he answered.
“Just you.”
“What?” She winced as she rolled off Will and onto her side to face Cam.
He knelt and helped prop her injured leg on top of her good one.
His eyes glowed with affection and maybe even pride as he gazed at her.
He shook his head.
“You’re something else.”
Compared to everyone else, she wasn’t doing a hell of a lot.
Still, his compliment boosted her spirits.
“Where’s the Spooky going?”
“To refuel.
Ryan’s got another one coming on station for standby.”
A moment later Ryan dropped down beside them.
He grinned at her, his teeth a startling white in his camouflaged face.
“Remind me to thank your pal when we get back.”
What?
She jerked her head around to stare after the retreating plane.
“Ace?”
“You betcha.”
The drone of the Spooky’s four prop engines died away in the distance.
Thanks Ace.
See you soon
.
She looked at Cam.
“So…are we clear?” Because she would really love to feel his arms around her right now.
He nodded.
“For now.
But we’re not going to wait around long enough to find out if anybody’s still out there.
Let’s get moving.”
Hell yes.
She grabbed the strong hand he offered and let him pull her up.
Holding his hand was better than nothing.