by Elle James
“We have to go back,” Kinsley said.
Her words brought him back to reality. Even if he could get past the four truckloads of men entering camp, he couldn’t drag Kinsley into the middle of the mayhem.
“We can’t go back.” His jaw hardened. “My team will return to collect us after they get the injured to safety.”
“But Agar could have gotten them out without unnecessary injuries.”
“SEAL teams don’t usually have the benefit of a Military Working Dog looking out for us. However, we wouldn’t have made it as far as we have tonight without you and Agar.”
“I wish we could have kept that SEAL from stepping on the explosives.”
“We can’t second-guess our decisions. Right now we have to lie low and hope we aren’t discovered.” He kept moving, farther and farther away from the terrorist compound until they could barely see the individual headlights. All they could discern were lights shining out from the camp center.
“How does your team know where to pick you up if you get separated?”
“I’m carrying a GPS tracking device. And when they get close enough, we’ll reestablish radio communication with our headsets.”
“In the meantime, shouldn’t we conserve the battery on these?” She pointed to the device in her ear.
“Yes.” He pulled his radio headset off and stuffed it into one of the pockets on his uniform.
Kinsley did the same. “Are we stopping for a few minutes?” she asked.
“We can.” T-Mac pulled his night-vision goggles down and glanced around the area, careful not to look directly at the terrorist camp with its bright headlights still burning. He didn’t see the green heat signatures of people moving about in the area, and they were far enough away that they couldn’t see them. He raised the NVGs and nodded. “Rest for a few minutes.”
“Good. Agar needs water.” She looped her weapon strap over her shoulder, cupped her hand and squirted water into her palm from the CamelBak water-storage device she wore like a backpack over her body armor.
Agar eagerly lapped up the water and waited while she repeated the process several times until he was satisfied. Then he lay on the ground beside her, seemingly content to rest as long as she was still.
“How long do you think it will take them to come back for us?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure. But it would be good for us to get as far away from the compound as we can before they attempt to bring the helicopter back. Now that the terrorists know we know where they are, they will be moving. And we don’t know which direction they will go.”
“They could be heading this way?” Kinsley rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “We are south of them, right?”
“Right.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if someone knew where they were headed?” she asked.
T-Mac didn’t like the question, or the direction of her thoughts. “What do you have in mind?”
“If you have a GPS device on you, couldn’t you attach it to one of their vehicles? That way we wouldn’t have to rely on satellite images to find them again.”
“But then our guys would have no way of finding us. And believe me, it’s a long way back to Camp Lemonnier on foot.”
Kinsley stared at the ground beside Agar and ran her hand over his head. “It’s a shame. These terrorists will probably be gone by morning.”
“Military intelligence could pull more satellite photos. They’ll find them again.”
“You heard the commander. The intel guys said it was lucky they actually found them the first time.” She shook her head. “Those bastards could get away again. They’ll only go on to hurt more of our military personnel, not to mention the innocent people they terrorize on a daily basis.”
“It’s too bad we don’t have one of the vehicles we saw tonight,” Kinsley mused. “We could plant the GPS device and make our way back to Camp Lemonnier on our own.”
“To do that, we’d have to steal one of their vehicles,” T-Mac said. “It would be insane to try.” Then why the hell was he considering trying to steal one of the trucks he’d seen that evening?
But the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He could do it. But would he put Kinsley at too much risk by even attempting such an idiotic feat?
He glanced down at where Kinsley sat beside Agar. “I know you’re good at finding land mines and IEDs, but how are you with setting detonators in plastic explosives?”
Chapter Nine
After a quick refresher on detonators and C-4 explosives, Kinsley worked with T-Mac to divvy up what he’d come with into three separate setups.
The camp would still be in a state of disarray, with everyone loading up whatever they deemed valuable in preparation for bugging out. They wouldn’t want to stay in one place knowing their location was compromised. After the Navy SEAL attack, they would be expecting even more grief in the way of rockets launched by either UAVs or other military aircraft. If they didn’t get out that night, they would be easy targets.
“Since we haven’t seen guards out searching for anyone left behind, we can assume they think all of the personnel who participated in the attack are gone for now,” T-Mac said. “We have surprise on our side. They will not be expecting anyone else to launch an offensive anytime soon.”
Kinsley squared her shoulders, excitement building in her chest. “That’s where we come in.”
Even in the limited lighting from the stars overhead, she could see the way T-Mac’s brow dipped. “Not we,” he said. “I will set the charges in strategic locations.”
“Right,” she agreed. “While Agar and I hide nearby.”
“Exactly.” T-Mac continued. “Then, while the Al-Shabaab terrorists are confused by the explosions, I’ll see what I can appropriate in the way of a vehicle. You’ll need to be ready once I roll out of the camp.”
She nodded, wishing she could play a bigger role in the attack. “Agar and I will be ready.”
T-Mac pressed a button on the side of his watch. “They should be scrambling out of the camp soon. If we’re going, we should leave now and get as close as possible without being seen.” He nodded toward Agar. “Will you be able to keep him quiet while I’m setting the charges?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, confident in Agar’s ability to take command.
“Then let’s go.” Together, they loaded the detonators into pouches and secured them on his vest. Then they loaded the C-4 into another pouch and secured the pouch to his vest. In order to move quickly, he would leave his rifle with Kinsley and carry only his handgun, Ka-Bar knife and a couple of hand grenades.
Now that they were actually going back to the camp, Kinsley was positive her idea was insane. But no matter how much she wanted to change T-Mac’s mind, he was set on his course.
Once he had everything where he could reach it quickly, he stared down at Kinsley. “You can stay here, if you like. I could make it back to you in whatever vehicle I can commandeer, or if that’s not possible, I can return on foot and we’ll get the hell out of here.”
“I’m coming as close as I can get. If you run into difficulties, I can cover for you while you get out.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced you’d be better off staying here.”
“I’m not staying. You can’t go it completely alone. You might get in okay, but getting back out will be more difficult. They’ll be looking for whoever set off the explosions.” She touched his arm, ready to do what it took to convince him she was an asset, not a liability. “I’m a pretty decent shot. I qualify expert every time I’ve been to the range. The least I can do is provide cover for you.”
“Being that close to camp puts you at risk.”
“I signed up for this gig when I asked to train with the dogs. I knew we’d be on the front line at some point. I�
��d say this is pretty damn close to the front line.” She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid.”
“You might not be afraid for yourself.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “But I’m scared for you.” He tipped his head toward the dog. “And Agar.”
Her heart warmed at the concern in his voice. She leaned her cheek into his palm. “Don’t worry about us. I’ll stay low and still. They won’t even know I’m there. You just do your thing and create the biggest, loudest distraction you can. I’ll be waiting near the road they drove in on. It should be clear of all land mines or they wouldn’t have driven in from that direction.”
“And you’ll have Agar if you get into trouble.” He stared down into her face.
T-Mac’s eyes were inky pools in the starlight, and Kinsley couldn’t read into them. By the way he leaned toward her, she could sense he wanted to say or do more. When he hesitated, she made up his mind for him and leaned up on her toes, pressing her lips to his. “Be careful, will ya? I kind of like kissing you.”
He laughed. “You know we could be court-martialed for fraternizing.”
She shrugged. “And we might not live to see the dawn of a new day. I’ll take my chances.” And she kissed him again.
T-Mac gripped her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace, their body armor making it difficult to get closer. “This doesn’t end here,” he promised.
“I’m banking on that, frogman.” She squared her shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
Though she was scared, adrenaline kicked in and sent her forward. She gave Agar the command to search ahead of them. While he sniffed for explosives in the ground, Kinsley looked at the activity going on in the terrorist camp. They appeared to be loading trucks. Men moved in front of headlights, carrying boxes and other items.
If T-Mac didn’t hurry, he might miss the opportunity to tag one of the vehicles and claim one of them for their own.
Kinsley couldn’t make Agar move faster. He was doing his job, but apparently between them and the camp there were no land mines. The terrorists must have thought the threats wouldn’t come from the south, deeper into Somalia.
Within minutes, they were back in shooting range of the camp.
Kinsley’s heart beat faster and her level of fear intensified. She didn’t like the idea of T-Mac slipping back into camp to set explosive charges. She couldn’t even imagine if he got caught. She prayed it wouldn’t happen, that he’d make it in and back out unscathed.
Just outside the camp, close to the road T-Mac was due to escape on, they hunkered low in the brush.
Kinsley sought out T-Mac’s hand, having massive second thoughts. “Don’t worry about swiping a vehicle. Just get in, plant the GPS and get back out. We’ll find our way back to Camp Lemonnier on foot. In fact, let’s not do this at all. I’d rather not lose you at this point.”
He squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ll be fine. But thanks for caring.” He kissed the backs of her knuckles. “Remember, I’ll be driving with the lights out. I’ll give three beams of my flashlight in quick succession.”
Kinsley smiled. “And I’ll return it with a beam from my red-lensed flashlight.”
“We might have to repeat the cue a couple of times if I’m off on distance.”
“I’ll be watching.” She sighed and stared up into his eyes. “Hurry back. I’m kinda getting used to having you around, big guy.” Kinsley cupped his cheek. “And don’t do anything stupid.”
“Stupid isn’t in the repertoire of a SEAL,” he said. “Hang tight. This shouldn’t take too long.” He kissed her hard on the lips and took off.
Agar strained at the lead, eager to follow, but Kinsley held firm. For the first few minutes, she could follow T-Mac’s silhouette moving through the brush and past trees, working his way toward the vehicles and people milling around the camp. Once he reached one of the tents still standing, he disappeared.
Kinsley’s heart lodged in her throat and her pulse pounded so hard, she could barely hear herself think.
Minutes ticked by like hours.
If he didn’t come out, she and Agar were on their own to make it back to Camp Lemonnier. But that didn’t scare her as badly as the fact that if he didn’t make it out, it meant he was either dead or captured and would be tortured by the terrorists.
Kinsley didn’t know which would be worse. But she knew one thing... She was falling for the navy SEAL, and she didn’t want what she felt for him to end like this.
* * *
MAKING IT INTO the camp hadn’t been that difficult. The terrorists were in a frenetic hurry to break camp, pack the trucks and get the hell out before their attackers returned with mortars or missiles.
T-Mac hid in the shadow of a tent, studying the layout of the camp, determining where would be the best place to set his charges. To make the biggest bang for his effort, he’d have to take out a couple of the trucks. The pile of empty crates at the north end of the camp would be a good target, drawing attention to the north while T-Mac attempted to take a vehicle and head south, as if one of the terrorists had gotten a jump start on leaving the compound.
Once his decision was made, he went into action, stealing from shadow to shadow. Men in black robes and turbans raced past him, their weapons slung over their shoulders, each carrying something to load into the backs of trucks.
T-Mac slipped up behind one at the back of a lone truck at the north end of the compound, grabbed him from behind and snapped his neck, killing him instantly. He dragged him under the truck, stripped off his turban and robe and dressed in them. He’d have a better chance of mixing in with the bad guys dressed like them.
Then he planted the plastic explosives near the engine of the vehicle and pressed a detonator into the claylike material. Lifting a small crate, he ran through the camp like the others until he arrived at another vehicle on the northwest side and stood behind another man loading a box into the back. He handed his crate up to the man in the back of the truck and turned to leave.
The man in the truck shouted something to him.
T-Mac didn’t catch what he said, so he couldn’t translate. He pretended he didn’t hear and hurried toward the front of the truck, where he pressed another glob of plastic explosives into the metal and jammed a detonator into it.
Once he had the two trucks tagged with explosives, he hurried toward several barrels that he assumed contained fuel of some sort. As he walked with his hands under the robe, he pressed another detonator into the C-4. Once he reached the barrels, he mashed the explosive compound into the side of one of the barrels that felt full.
A shout from behind made him turn.
Fortunately, the man wasn’t shouting at him, but at another man who’d dropped a container full of boxes of ammunition, spilling its contents over the ground. Bullets spilled out and rolled across the sand.
A couple of the men ganged up on the one who’d dropped the box.
While all attention was on them, T-Mac slipped to the south side of the camp, eyeing two vehicles already pointed toward Somalia. Men were loading boxes and weapons into the backs of the trucks. On the one closest to him, a driver sat in the cab, his weapon resting across his lap.
T-Mac hoped the fireworks would distract all of them long enough for him to get the truck and get the hell out of camp before anyone knew any better.
He found a position behind the hulk of a vehicle that had flat tires and had been stripped of anything that could be removed, cannibalized or destroyed. Once he was safely in place, he covered his ears, hunkered down and pressed the button to detonate the first charge.
The explosion shook the ground beneath him.
Screams and shouts rose up around him.
From the corner of his hiding place, he watched as half of the men who’d been loading his target truck and the one beside it ran toward the explosion.
Five seconds later, he
set off round two.
Again, the explosion made the earth tremble beneath his feet and debris rain down from the sky.
Daring to peek out, T-Mac checked the truck he hoped to steal. The driver had stepped down from the cab, his weapon raised, his gaze darting around, apparently searching for the person setting off the charges. Yet he didn’t move away from the vehicle.
T-Mac would have to take the guy down.
He gauged how far he’d have to run out in the open to get to the driver, knowing he could easily do it, especially since he was disguised as one of them.
Gunfire sounded as the terrorists ran to the north end of the compound.
Knowing it was his last chance to create a huge distraction, T-Mac waited a few seconds before detonating the last charge.
Boom! The charge went off. A second later, another, louder bang ripped through the night, sending a tower of flames into the air as the fuel in the barrel ignited.
The truck driver hit the ground and covered his head.
T-Mac made his move. He sprinted across the open space, bent to the man on the ground and slit his throat. With the driver out of the way and the others all concentrating on the north end of camp and the raging fire sending flames a hundred feet into the sky, T-Mac had the chance he’d been hoping for.
He dragged the man beneath the truck, ran to the other vehicle and stashed the GPS tracker in a ripped hole in the driver’s seat. Once he had the reason for his visit to the camp in place, he ran back around the front of the truck he hoped to take, leaned into the cab, set it in Neutral and started pushing it toward the perimeter of the camp.
At first, the truck barely moved. But once he got the momentum going, it rolled faster and faster. When he reached the edge of the camp, he jumped into the cab, twisted the key in the ignition and cranked the engine.
A shout sounded beside the driver’s door. A man in the black garb of the Al-Shabaab ran alongside the truck, shaking his fist at T-Mac.
T-Mac slowed enough to position the vehicle just right, then shoved the door open fast and hard, hitting the man in the head.