Using stealth tactics, she slowly made her way around the stadium, pausing to assess and set charges that would act as cover for Nathan’s men. With each progressive step forward, the tension in her coiled tighter. Nowhere along the nearly three-quarters of ground she’d covered had she seen the first GRID guard. Maybe they figured they were safe, being on Iranian soil. Maybe they figured they were safe inside the stadium. She could only guess, but she’d have felt a damn sight better about their absence if the noise inside weren’t getting louder and more frenzied. The energy emanating from inside the place felt almost frenetic. It set her teeth on edge.
Near the wall, the guards’ shouts were clear enough to decipher. U.S. bashing, blaming Nathan’s men for everything done and undone, whipping up anger and outrage. They didn’t just want executions; the bloodthirsty bastards wanted brutal slayings.
Get a grip on your emotions, Kate. You’re dealing with GRID. That’s Kunz and Marcus Sandross. You know they’re twisted, their penchants and sick sadistic love of torture. Just focus on the rescue. Ignore the static and get to the men.
The last of four broad doors leading into the stadium, like the previous three, was shut and locked tight from the inside. As she had with the other three, Kate set a charge to blow it off the hinges, rigged a remote detonator, then backed off to sprint into the cover of the shadows, heading back toward Nathan’s position.
Inside, what had been cheering and chanting turned to screaming. GRID, thank God, and not Nathan’s men. Not yet. Men were going to die and they acted as if it meant no more than a night’s entertainment.
A voice boomed out over a loudspeaker. A voice she believed belonged to a man she had hoped had died in the cave explosion. Marcus Sandross. Kunz’s second-in-command. The only man Gaston ever had met who loved to kill as much as Kunz.
She made the last leg of the stadium loop, and met up with Nathan. “I need your help.”
He smiled and, unable to imagine why in the world he would, considering circumstances, she realized what she’d said. It stunned her. Kate, the loner who always went in alone and would refuse assistance if offered it unless it threatened life, had asked him to help her. His smile proved he considered himself honored.
“Sure,” he whispered. “What do you want me to do?”
She scissor-wiggled her fingers and pointed to the stadium, signaling they would start there.
When they got into place just beyond the fall of the lights about five feet to the left of the stadium door, she
drove a stake into the ground, bent wire around a metal post on it, then shoved the reel of wire into Nathan’s hands and motioned for him to stretch it back to—she held up her index finger—signaling Douglas’s position.
Five feet from the left side of the door, she paralleled him, drove in a second stake and stretched wire from it, walking with Nathan.
When they neared Douglas, she warned him, “Incoming, One.”
“Roger.”
A minute later, her heart pumping hard, a sweat sheen glistening on her face, she dropped to the dirt beside Douglas to handle preparations on the wires on this end.
Nathan kicked up a little cloud of dust next to her, waiting until she was done for a quick briefing.
“Four doors—one on each side. No guards on the outer perimeter. I’m going to blow the doors simultaneously, then light up a gauntlet for our guys to run. Fire down both sides will give them the best cover.” She looked from Nathan to Douglas. “You and your team be waiting and help them back to the chopper. From the sounds of those bastards, some of them aren’t going to be mobile.”
She wiped at her forehead. “I need help up front, Nathan. I’ve set the charges, but the guys need cover coming out. The time they’re between the stadium door and when they enter the gauntlet, they’re totally vulnerable.” GRID would pick them off like ducks in a row.
He nodded. “If you blow all the doors, how will my men know where to go?”
“Evade-and-escape training,” she said. “They’ll look for the fire. The GRID operatives won’t know to run to it and not away from the fire, though they’ll be busy enough shooting at our guys to stop them from leaving.” She took
a long drink of water from her canteen. “We’ve got to get them into the gauntlet.”
“I get it, but not all of my men have evade-and-escape training. Some of them are raw recruits.”
“Nathan,” she said in a low, level tone. “Trust your men. You didn’t train them to find the latrine, either, but they managed. They’ll follow the men who have been trained.”
“You’re right.” He let out a deep breath. “You’re right.”
They ran through the gauntlet toward the stadium and Kate set and checked the charges. The damn detonator on the left side wouldn’t set. She took it out and totally reworked it. No way, could she risk it failing. Not with these stakes.
Nathan stooped at her side. “Done?”
“Almost.”
The sound of a gun hammer being pulled at her back sent chills screaming up and down her spine.
“Hands up.”
“D
o it now, Captain Kane.”
Even without turning around, Kate knew that voice. “Moss.”
“I’m surprised you remembered.” He grunted to his partner. “She remembered me. Isn’t that special?”
Kate bumped the release on her knife sheath, raising her hands, and slowly stood, then turned toward him. A man stood at his left. She took a long, hard look at him. Broad, bullish build. Bad acne scars and a hooked nose. Brown hair slicked back in a ponytail. Yet another face not on the S.A.S.S. watch list and one she didn’t personally recognize from research or experience.
“Nice of you to join our party. With fireworks, no less.”
“Thought you’d enjoy it, Moss.” She stole a glance at Nathan. He signaled with blinks to attack on three.
Afraid Douglas would intercede, she issued him a di
rect order. “One, hold fast,” and tilted her head, signaling Nathan she’d take Moss.
Nathan signaled. Two.
Kate rolled her shoulder. “Can I let my arm down?”
“Why not?” Moss said. “But reach for that knife and you’re a dead woman.”
She didn’t. Three. She side-armed Moss in the throat, then followed up with a boot to his groin.
Nathan simultaneously lunged at his opponent and she heard the sounds of scuffling: fists to flesh, grunts and tussling, the crunch of bone. Moss pivoted and raised his gun. Kate rushed him, diverting his aim, but he was stronger, had a deeper reach. She drove in, slamming the heel of her hand to his nose.
His blood spurted. “You crazy bitch. You think you can beat me?” He landed a solid right to her jaw and knocked her sprawling. “You can’t beat me.”
“My mother could beat you, Moss.” She laughed, goading him, hitting him hardest where he hated it most: in the ego. “You’re barely holding my attention.”
“Right. But you’re on your ass, not me.”
She scissor-cut his legs, knocking them out from under him, and threw her weight behind a slammed kick to his kneecap.
He let out a keening howl and charged her.
She whipped out her knife and felt her elbow give. Pain shot up her arm to her shoulder. She snagged the blade with her left hand, ducked an inside jab and slashed at Moss’s throat.
He grabbed it, cursing her, his breath gurgling, and charged her again.
Kate forced herself to wait, to stay cool and wait for the
perfect timing. The moment came. She raised her foot and slammed it into his groin.
His breath swooshed out, splattering blood with it. He bent double and just stood there, teetering on his feet, before he dropped suddenly as if he’d folded over.
Breathing hard and heavy, Kate spun around. Nathan stood a few feet away, silent and still, watching her. His opponent lay crumpled on the ground.
“You okay?” Nathan rubbed at his jaw. “Bastard had a hard right.”
She nodded she was fine. “You?”
He nodded back.
The frenzy inside the stadium grew louder still, echoing in her ears, chilling her blood. Kate motioned to Nathan to get positioned outside the gauntlet, then she moved beyond the perimeter toward the other side. He stood, AK-47 raised and waiting.
She held the remotes, ready to detonate.
“One,” she summoned Douglas. “Position countdown.”
“Go,” he said, starting the sound off that would relay through the tactical team.
“On point,” Kate whispered. “We’re going to light up their world like the Fourth of July.” She activated the remotes.
The explosions sounded in rapid succession, blasting the doors to bits. The gauntlet fired up, stretching two parallel walls of fire flaming fifteen feet from the ground to the sky.
Inside the stadium, confusion and chaos erupted. Kate held her breath. What if the men didn’t come? What if Nathan had been right and the raw recruits didn’t follow?
“First man out,” a man shouted. “First man out.”
“This way!” Nathan yelled at him. “Simpson, Crash, here!”
Kate heard the exchange and then saw the men running
for the gauntlet. GRID guards chased them, carrying swords. Where were their guns? she wondered. Maybe Iran wouldn’t let them carry guns. Could she be so lucky?
A stream of Nathan’s men charged out of the stadium. “Here they come, One. Be ready.”
Nathan fired the first shot, dropping a GRID operative in his tracks. Another guard was about to behead a man when another man from the unit tackled him from behind.
The hand-to-hand combat grew fierce and Kate had a hell of time sighting in on the guards to help out, but the men were nearly to the gauntlet. Thirty seconds more. They needed thirty seconds more.
She lifted another remote and activated it. The explosion ripped through the stadium, bellowing smoke.
Nathan laid down a dozen shots in rapid succession, clearing a path for them. Kate positioned herself and did the same, then they kept firing nonstop, putting a slight break between the men and the guards.
“Need help up there?” Douglas asked, sounding worried.
The men started disappearing into the gauntlet, shielded by the fire. “Stay put. Gauntlet’s heavy.” She took down a guard, spun left and took out another. “We’re two minutes out. Repeat. Gauntlet’s heavy. We’re two minutes out.” She shoved the mike out of her way and kept fighting.
When a lapse in men entering the gauntlet occurred, she tugged the mike back into place. “Shark, are they all in?”
“Roger. Last one just stepped inside. Guards are no longer in pursuit.”
They’d retreated into the stadium. And that was news she’d hoped for but hadn’t dared to expect. Picking up the last remote, she took deep pleasure in depressing the activator switch.
The explosion blasted her ears and blew concrete dust to where she stood. A secondary explosion fired, throwing flames and debris far up into the velvety night sky. A third charge fired and blew out the walls.
The stadium had been obliterated.
Running a quick check, she verified that the men had cleared the gauntlet. “One, you got ’em?”
“Affirmative, ma’am. We’re escorting them in.”
Kate smiled, turned to Nathan and felt such joy that they’d gotten his men to the chopper, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him hard. “We did it, Nathan. They’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah. They’re going to be fine.” He dropped a kiss to her crown. “Let’s go now.”
“Just a second.” She pulled back and sniffed. Then depressed a little black button on the last remote.
A whistling light streaked through the sky, shooting sparks of red, white and blue.
“Fireworks?” Nathan wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“Mmm.” Firmly noncommittal, Kate chuckled. “Actually, I left a little present for Kunz and Sandross.”
“Uh-huh.” Nathan steered her back toward the chopper. “That present has smoke in the sky as far as I can see.”
“Just wait a second.”
Explosions ticked off faster than a lighted pack of firecrackers. One over the other, with another, before and after several others.
“What the hell is that?”
“My present.” Kate hiked her chin and didn’t look back. “I suspected Kunz had weapons stored under the stadium. He loves underground hiding places, and it was just so convenient.”
“So you’re blowing them up?”
“Yep.” They were in Iran. It wasn’t as if she’d have another chance tomorrow.
“Do you think he was there?”
“At first, I hoped. But no, he wasn’t there.” She sighed. Her elbow throbbed and her arm felt as though it was going to fall off.
“We’d better run, Nathan. We’ve got to get out of here.” He picked up his speed, matching hers. “Iran isn’t going to appreciate that crater. We put this part of GRID out of operation, and they’re probably not going to like it that much, either, and right now, Iran is our greater threat.” From this point until they crossed the border, they were more vulnerable than on the entire mission.
“One,” Nathan said into the mike, running beside her. “Is egress ready?”
“The men are boarding now, sir.”
“Hustle.”
“Yes, sir.”
Minutes later Kate and Nathan climbed onto the chopper. When it lifted off and the guys saw them, the men broke into applause. Kate was deeply moved. They respected Nathan. And after tonight, they respected her.
She wasn’t an outsider anymore.
Kate savored the moment of grace; appreciating it for the rare and precious gift it was, letting the laughter and excited chatter flow over and through her.
“Commander!” A member of the flight crew rushed back from the front of the plane. “We’ve got a problem, sir.”
Nathan spun around to face him.
“We’ve picked up an Iranian escort. Right wingtip.”
The men went silent.
Kate’s stomach sank. She adjusted her lip mike. “Bluefish to Home Base.”
“I read you,” Maggie responded.
“We’ve got the unit. No additional hostages. Currently attempting egress. An Iranian chopper just dropped into formation, right wingtip. Escort position. Repeat. Escort position. Not hostile.”
“Stand by.”
A moment later Colonel Drake spoke to Kate. “Captain, you have encroached into Iranian airspace. Revert to backup GPS system, verify your position and evacuate Iranian airspace immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am,” Kate said. “Equipment malfunction.” She paused a second, noted the worried looks of all the men focused on her. “Backup systems are now active. Error acknowledged and accepted. Please extend my apologies to the Iranian government, and let them know I appreciate their indulgence.”
It was bullshit all around. The pilots knew it, Nathan and his men knew it, Home Base knew it, and the Iranians knew it. But the Iranians were shoveling their own branded version of it, too. They didn’t want American hostages inside their borders that America would certainly attempt to rescue. They didn’t want the GRID executions to take place and create an international incident. They just wanted American forces to know they were aware the U.S. had been there and Iran wanted them out. And all that sat just fine with Kate. She’d take the hit, gladly, and be damn grateful for it.
The chopper tracked with them all the way to the border. Silence reigned on the chopper, all eyes on the Iranian aircraft.
When it peeled off and circled back, Kate finally breathed easier. The men did, too.
Douglas came over to Kate and Nathan. “Kramer just reported a positive ID on one the GRID members in the stadium.”
“Anyone we know?” Kate asked.
“Yeah.” Douglas frowned. “Thomas Kunz.”
“Another one?” Nathan asked. Then, dropping his voice, he added, “Or
the
one?”
“Begging your pardon, Commander, but who the hell can tell?”
Boy, had Douglas pegged it. Kate squeezed her eyes shut and inwardly groaned. “Odds are that it wasn’t him.”
“You can’t know that, Kate.” Nathan warned her against jumping to conclusions.
“It’s a reasonable deduction,” she countered. “He knew we were close. If he was in the area, you can bet your ass he departed long before I entered the cave the first time.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Experience.” She swiveled her gaze to Douglas. “Thomas Kunz is devious and brutal and, I’m sorry to say, absolutely brilliant. But he’s also a coward.”
“A coward?” Douglas’s eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. “Jesus, Captain, he’s the meanest bastard in the world. Every man who knows he exists dreads going up against him.”
“Every woman, too,” she agreed. “But he hides out in his fortresses and leaves his fighting and blood-spilling to his minion mercenaries.”
“She’s right about that.” Nathan agreed. “Does Kramer know if this Kunz was there when the stadium exploded?”
“I don’t know about Kramer, but when MacAlister entered the gauntlet, someone shouted his name. Thinking it was one of our guys, he looked back and the stadium exploded.”
“Kunz called him,” Kate suggested. “Standing front and center, right?”
“Yeah.” Douglas looked surprised, and then the reason for Kunz calling out to MacAlister dawned on him. “Damn it, he wanted us to see him. He wanted us to know he was dead.”
“Exactly.” She looked at Nathan. “Another clone.”
“Why do these people die for him?” Douglas asked.
“Different culture,” Nathan said. “Different beliefs.”
Kate was less diplomatic. “Money and virgins.” She lifted a hand. “All through recorded history, this region has suffered more war than peace, and many families are poor. Just-this-side-of-starving poor. The family receives a fortune and the martyr gets paradise, which includes fifty virgins.”
“But GRID members are all nationalities.”
“True, but the majority of them we’ve gone up against here have been from this region.”
“Commander,” Riley said. “Captain says to prepare for landing.”
Kate sat and Nathan took the place beside her. She scanned the benches at the men. They were bruised and banged up, some sooty, some still with greasepaint smeared on their faces, but many of them were smiling, and from the banter and cheerful conversations going on all around her, they realized how lucky they were to be alive.
Nathan clasped her arm. “Thanks, Kate.”
She smiled at him. “It’s been a good day, Nathan.”
They’d survived.