Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) (22 page)

As for him, he lay there, his eyes open, listening to every last sound. Taliban were known to have frequented this cave precisely because it had pools of water in it. But while they drank from it, he wouldn’t. The water was full of bacteria and God knew what else. It was okay for washing, however, and once Callie was sleeping deeply, he’d get up and refill their gallon jar with the water and put the purification tablets in it.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, his hearing keyed to every noise. He felt the soft rise and fall of Callie’s breasts against his arm, but this was no place to make love, much as he wanted to. Dawn was coming, and he knew the Taliban would soon be awake and back on their trail. Worse, if they had horses, Callie and Beau would have much less time to elude their pursuers.

His mind ranged over Matt’s situation with Dara. So much could go wrong up in the mountains. At least down here, it was warmer and not snowing. Up there, it was—another challenge for Dara to deal with. He worried about her. A lot.

Callie fell asleep almost instantly and Beau hated easing away from her. He knew that if he didn’t, he’d fall asleep, and he couldn’t let that happen. Instead, he rose quietly to his feet and picked up his rifle to check out the other cave.

He didn’t want any surprises. There was a greater likelihood of Taliban moving around with the skies clearing. The sun would quickly dry up the area, the ground hardening once more. He hoped their run along the riverbed had slowed the enemy down. As far as he could figure, he and Callie had done everything right, or at least as well as they could have done under the circumstances.

With clear skies, Bagram would send at least one drone up to begin hunting for them. Beau knew that the black ops community would realize he and Matt would hole up during daylight hours and move only at night.

Still, he hoped there was already a drone in the sky searching for them. If nothing else, it could find their pursuers, and if it was a Predator drone, it could take them out. Predators carried Hellfire missiles and could easily remove a cluster of Taliban if it spotted them. And Beau was sure the Taliban was around, even though they hadn’t seen traces of them.

It was a special gift for Beau to watch Callie restore herself with a deep, uninterrupted sleep—one he’d been able to give her. It was nearly dusk now, the sun lancing through the thick brush covering the cave’s entrance, spraying shots of gold light on the rear of the cave wall. He stood near the tunnel, the M4 in his chest harness, simply watching the play of light against her clean, soft features. He would never tire of watching this woman wake up, aching to have her in his arms, her naked body against his, in the warmth of their bed. The dreams he had for them were so damned many, but wanting to share them with her was impossible right now.

He forced himself to leave her, moving silently down the tunnel. This was a popular cave, and he knew he was taking a risk by even stopping here, but Callie was physically and mentally exhausted. If she didn’t get the rest she needed, they couldn’t make that last push of twenty-five miles. It would take them to within a mile of Bagram, where he could finally use his personal radio.

This time frame would hold the most danger of all. There would be fewer hills, although he was going to move to a small mountain and use it as cover. The last four miles were wide-open desert, with only a few desert trees here and there.

This part of their journey would be the most hazardous of all, but because it was night, they had a chance to get back home without being seen. Still, as Beau well knew, nothing was guaranteed, and if the Taliban were roving around the area out of season, it threw more danger into the mix.

*

Callie hungrily ate
everything in the MRE. Beau sat beside her, his long legs crossed. It was getting dark outside and she knew it was soon going to be time to move. He’d cautioned her not to talk because the Taliban was active from dawn through dusk. She hoped they were bedding down for the night somewhere other than in this cave. Earlier, he’d whispered to her that tonight they would walk at a fast, steady pace to reach Bagram. Then, within a mile of the base, he could contact his HQ by short-distance radio. Never had Callie wanted anything more than to be safe on that Army base.

By the time it was dark, they were on the move, leaving the cave behind. Overhead, the stars glittered in the ebony sky above them. The chilly wind blew around them, sometimes with unexpected harshness. They left the hills behind, heading toward Beau’s next objective. It was about six thousand feet tall, with rocky slopes and covered with many groves of stubby trees.

Callie knew Beau wanted to thread through the groves to hide from any local Taliban. Her gloves had finally dried out, as had her parka, and it was nice not to have numb fingers as she held on to Beau’s belt. She tried to walk as quietly as Beau did, and they continued on until near midnight on the slope.

At that moment, Beau suddenly halted and moved into a slow crouch, his M4 up, and pointed ahead of them. Instantly, Callie’s heart took off at a wild gallop. He’d taught her to not move quickly; slow was definitely preferred, bringing less attention to them.

Callie’s ears picked up sounds.
Pashto. Oh, God!
Gulping, she slowly crouched down behind Beau. Taliban? She was pretty sure of it. There were no villages in this area. There was low laughter and more talk. What was Beau going to do?

He slowly stood up and she followed suit, terrified. He turned and she followed, a huge tree between them and the Taliban encampment. Never had she wanted to be more careful about where she placed her boots. She kept her focus on the ground and hung on to Beau’s belt so tightly her fingers ached.

Her heart was pounding in her ears so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else. Beau led them downward for more than ten minutes before he stopped. Then, crouching, he brought his arm around Callie to draw her up against him. He could feel her tension and sensed her anxiety.

His lips near her ear, he said, “Taliban. Don’t know how many. We’re going to keep working our way down this slope.”

“A-are there more?”

“I don’t know. Just watch your step.”

She nodded and slowly rose with Beau.

Beau looked around, his hearing never sharper. The gusts of cold wind certainly didn’t help, but lucky for them, the wind was blowing in a direction that took their scent away from the Taliban. The group was bedding down for the night. He’d heard no horses moving around or snorting. This could be another band of enemy that was not tracking them.

He and Callie could have gotten unlucky and walked into their camp, and it had been a close call—too close! He could feel the terror coming from Callie because the reality of their situation had become far more immediate. Before, she’d asked how he could know that the enemy was searching for them since they were never visible.

He had smiled and told her that by the time she saw them, they would have been surrounded and captured. These people melted like ghosts in and out of the surrounding areas. Callie had looked at him skeptically, and he knew she didn’t believe him.

Well, now she did.

Beau knew they had five miles to go to reach Bagram. He angled their approach steeply down the slope, hoping that Callie would watch her feet, since the rocks were sometimes loose. There were large, clear areas of hard dirt and not much brush now, and he tried to stay away from them because the more cover they had, the safer they’d be.

Suddenly, he froze, picking up noise, movement. Callie crashed into him. He absorbed the impact, remaining motionless. There, coming from below and to the left of them on horseback. Beau saw two Taliban soldiers. Their horses were tired, their heads hanging, their shaggy coats gleaming with sweat from being ridden hard for hours, or perhaps days.

Gripping Callie’s gloved hand, Beau moved her to a nearby huge pine tree. Without a word, he guided her so that she crouched down behind it, fully hidden from their view. The riders were coming closer, and he had no way to hide her in a cave because there were none in this area. The Taliban were also wearing NVGs.
Sonofabitch!

He turned, lips close to her ear. “Whatever you do, stay here. I have to take them out. Don’t move an inch. I’ll come back for you when it’s over.”

Callie wanted to cry out, but knew they had no choice. She nodded, and an instant later Beau had melted into the dark. Thanks to her NVGs, she could see him lean down and run, hiding among the trees and brush. She stayed crouched on her hands and knees behind the trunk of the tree and listened as horses clip-clopped closer and closer toward her.

Terror shot through her as she knelt, paralyzed by the fear, her head down against the wide trunk, trying to make herself smaller. How desperately she wanted to melt into the earth! Beau could be killed! She could die! Suddenly, Callie wanted to live so badly she could taste it in her dry mouth. Her heart was leaping out of her chest, she was so damn scared. She had no weapon and no way to protect herself—nothing! A sinking feeling of dread overtook her as the horsemen drew ever closer.

Meanwhile, Beau was calculating what to do next. He had no silencer on his M4, so he knew when he fired that the sound would boom throughout the area, alerting the other Taliban camp farther up the slope. He had no idea how many of the enemy were in it, because he couldn’t peer through the brush to make a head count.

His mind snapped back to Callie. She was helpless, and the only thing she had going for her was a tree trunk to hide behind. He worried that the horses would smell her scent, and if she moved, their acute hearing would hear even the slightest noise. The Taliban were very attuned to their horses and would quickly pick up on their reaction.

Damn!
He skirted the group, hoping that they would ride by the area, Callie remaining undetected. So much could go wrong, and worst of all, he was dealing with an unknown number of enemy. Were there more men behind these two riders? He didn’t know that, either. This was when a drone would have helped him out, giving him an overview of the situation. That way, he could make better life-and-death decisions.

But right now, Beau had no drone info. All he had was his experience and one rifle against an unknown enemy force on horseback approaching the area.

Beau made a wide circle, trying to get in between the riders and the enemy camp. No one suspected he was out here—and that was his only advantage: the element of surprise.

Suddenly, he heard a shriek from Callie. Instantly, he turned, running down the slope as more raw screams filled the air. And then he heard the sounds of the men who had captured her. His heart thundered as he hurtled down the slope, slamming a bullet into the chamber, unsafing his weapon, and running as hard as he could.
No, not Callie!
They must have discovered her!
God . . . no!

Everything started to slow down and Beau felt the icy sense of death close to him. He leaped over a small log, landing inside the barren slope. Two riders had dismounted, and at least four other men stood around her.

Callie was on the ground, struggling, as one man held down each arm, while others had splayed her on her back. Another man was on top of her, his legs bracketing her hips, tearing at her red sweater. She was fighting for her life, screaming out in terror, trying to get loose, but she didn’t have a chance.

Another man had yanked her jeans, pulling them down below her knees, grinning.

Rage barreled through Beau, and he skidded to one knee, placed his rifle against a tree to steady it, and fired. The man sitting on Callie was hit with a bullet to the head. Beau’s second shot took out the man who was holding her jeans. And then, as they toppled off her, Beau began to take out the four men holding her down. He saw the whole world change through the scope of his M4 as it bucked savagely against his shoulder.

The four Taliban left reacted, releasing Callie and going for their own weapons.

“Stay down!” Beau roared at Callie, who was trying to get up. He knew she’d be killed in the crossfire. Cursing, he finished off all four of the soldiers, who collapsed around Callie, now on her belly, hands over her head, trying to protect herself.

On his right, he heard new Taliban running down the slope toward Callie, and he knew they’d kill her. Moving swiftly from the safety of the tree, he ran past her, yelling, “
Down! Don’t move!
” and then headed up the hill to meet the men racing toward her.

Beau saw the first Taliban, a soldier with an AK-47, appear on the rocky slope above him. Calmly, Beau crouched, taking him out. Bullets began flying all around him. He knew that the muzzle flash of his M4 would draw fire from the others, and the dirt shot up in geysers all around him. Some bullets ricocheted off nearby rocks, sending sparks flying into the air.

Beau released a spent magazine, slapping another in with the palm of his hand. Sighting, he took out two more soldiers. The men’s screams continued, blending with the roar of returned AK-47 gunfire. The smell of spent ammo burned Beau’s flared nostrils, but he remained stationary, watching behind his sight as each soldier appeared around the trees.