by H. L. Wegley
Benjamin’s eyes widened. “You mean those cave-clearing rockets they used on the Taliban?”
Steve nodded.
“Regardless, it won't happen, Steve,” Benjamin said. “You six will be gone, and I’ll take out the first man who raises an RPG launcher. They will take cover, and I will disappear.”
“Yeah,” Jeff's voice grew loud and angry. “Then my house disappears in a big ball of fire.”
Benjamin laid his hand on Jeff's shoulder. “That's going to happen to your house no matter what we do. They've already made that decision. We just need to get safely away.”
All the talk of violent explosions and killing struck a raw nerve in Julia. And to think Benjamin had no qualms about ambushing and killing another man. She looked up and saw Benjamin studying her face. “Doesn't it bother you to just kill another human being with no warning, or is that what you do in Israel?”
The hurt and shock on Benjamin's face as he averted his gaze stopped her breathing like someone had knocked the breath out of Julia.
Now all eyes were on her, and she had to defend the conviction she held, regardless. “Killing is wrong. I don't think—”
“That's right, Julia, you don't think.” Brock towered over her, glaring his disapproval.
“It's okay, Brock.” Benjamin hooked Brock's arm and tried to pull him away from Julia.
The reaction of everyone, turning on her for her convictions, was a jumble of hurt, betrayal, and righteous indignation, so tangled inside her heart and mind that she couldn't think of anything coherent to say.
Brock blew out a sharp blast of air and turned away toward Benjamin. “It's never wrong to defend yourself. Never. How would pacifism fly in Israel? Tell us what life is like there.”
Benjamin shook his head. “I don't think this is the right—”
“Oh, it's the right time. Tell her what you told me about kids waiting for the school bus … come on, Benjamin.”
Benjamin sighed. “In parts of the country, we build small bomb shelters beside the school bus stops. When the sirens go off, the kids have four to seven seconds to jump inside or they could be blown to … as you say it, kingdom come.”
Innocent kids? “How can the Palestinians be so—”
“Hamas.” Benjamin cut her off. “It's Hamas controlling the politics, controlling the Palestinian people, infecting their children with jihadist ideas, aided by some radical Palestinians and funding from Iran.”
This was evil, done by evil people. But was killing the solution?
Brock stuck out a thumb toward Julia. “Show her the picture of you and your girlfriend.”
Benjamin smiled as he slid a picture from his wallet. “Not my girlfriend. She's my fiancé.” He handed the picture to Julia.
She studied the picture. A beautiful, young, olive-skinned woman in a skirt and blouse walked hand-in-hand with Benjamin on the sidewalk. Both smiling at each other … with assault rifles slung over their shoulders.
“Date night.” Benjamin shrugged. “As they say … only in Israel. You see, we are attacked almost daily in some manner—stabbings, bombings, rockets. How would Americans like it if over 1,000 rockets a year were shot across your border into a city? I do not think Americans would stand for it.”
Brock glared at Julia again. “But we force Israel to just sit there and take it. Especially, since Hannan’s election. You see, Julia, it's always right to defend yourself and innocent people. It's no different than Nehemiah arming the people while rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem under threat of attack.”
Julia knew better than to argue with Brock, the apologist, especially while his fierce gaze intimidated her. But she couldn't be wrong about this, could she? Her evidence was—no. She wouldn't go there now, not to Africa. Not in her mind and not in this discussion.
Julia looked out the window. The sun had set.
“Shouldn't we be watching for Hannan's men, or something?” Allie had cut off the discussion, rescuing Julia.
She looked up into Allie's warm brown eyes. Mothering them all, gluing them together into a cohesive whole—that seem to be the role Allie had taken since the six were thrown together in Oregon nearly six weeks ago.
Julia opened her mouth to thank Allie, but Julia’s voice was gone.
“It's okay,” Allie whispered to Julia. Allie smiled and stepped away.
Benjamin opened the slider in the family room and walked onto the deck. He climbed onto the deck railing and pulled his tall slender body onto the roof. “It should be dark enough to leave in another thirty minutes, but I'm going to watch from the roof until then, just in case.”
After Benjamin climbed onto the roof, Brock turned his attention to KC. Evidently, he wasn’t going to resume their discussion.
Julia blew out a breath and tried to relax. She was right about killing, but why did being right make her feel so bad? Maybe because, if her friends acted on Julia's convictions, they would all die. She had never had to confront that situation since leaving Africa eight years ago, until today.
Please, God, don't let them die because of me.
Could Julia actually let someone die if she could stop the killer?
Her head snapped up as Benjamin dropped from the roof and thumped hard on the deck. He leaped toward the open slider. “Jeff …,” Benjamin stuck his head in the room. “How far are those mountains to the northwest?”
“Let's see. That's a little southwest of Cave Junction … about five or six miles.”
“Listen everyone.” Benjamin's voice rose. “A chopper just dropped into the valley from a gap in those mountains and headed our way. I heard no engine or rotor sound.”
Steve gripped Benjamin’s shoulder. “No sound at all?”
Benjamin shook his head.
Steve blew out a blast of air. “They've got a Stealth Hawk. If I’m right, we'll have Hannan’s men in our laps in five minutes.”
Chapter 12
“Go, go, go, everybody. Get your packs and weapons.” Benjamin ran from the family room to the living room.
Julia followed Benjamin.
Steve pushed her along. “Julia, grab my pack, too. Wait for me by the family room slider.”
She tripped when her foot kicked the leg of a chair but caught her balance as she stumbled into the living room. Julia snatched both her and Steve's packs with her good hand and turned to go back to the family room.
“Wait.” Steve snagged her arm, unzipped a section of his pack, and pulled out two magazines. He stuffed them into a pocket on his cargo shorts.
What was he up to?
“Jeff, Allie, you need to go now before they can see you.” Benjamin's voice rose above the chaos. “They could show in two or three minutes. Take the streambed into town, like we discussed.”
Jeff and Allie ran through the family room and out the door, then veered left toward town and the tree-lined streambed that would cover them on their run to O'Brien.
Julia stopped by the slider and waited for Steve.
Brock and KC flew by her while KC’s laptop case, slung over her shoulder, banged brutally against her side. They jumped off the low deck and sprinted toward the irrigation ditch.
It was supposed to be darker when they did this. “Benjamin …”
He glanced Julia’s way.
She stuck a thumb out toward the sky. “It's not dark, yet.”
“I know, Julia. But Hannan’s men aren’t here yet, either. Brock, KC, Jeff and Allie will be fine.”
Steve scurried into the family room holding his M4 like he meant to use it any second. “Julia, you need to run the ditch now and don’t stop until you’re fifty yards back into the trees. I'll be there in a few minutes.”
“A few minutes? Steve, by then they'll see you. They’ll shoot.”
“That's the general idea. I'm the bait, remember?”
Benjamin jumped up on the deck rail. “I'll cover you from the roof until it gets too hot.”
This wasn't how they had planned it. Steve would be a visibl
e target, too visible. She had to do something, but what?
“Go, Julia!”
“I can't just leave—”
“You've got to. If you're here when they show, I'm dead.”
She had to go, but she may never see Steve again this side of eternity. She needed to say something. “Steve, I—”
“Save it for later.” He nudged her out the door and onto the deck then pointed across the field. “Sprint the ditch and don't climb out until you reach the bushes by the trees.”
Save it for later? Would there be a later? Julia touched his cheek, turned, and ran. With her tiny pack on her back, she leaped off the deck like a long jumper and hopped at the end of her jump. Her shoes tore the sod in the backyard as she accelerated into an all-out sprint toward the dry irrigation ditch.
As she slid down the bank into the bottom of the ditch, Benjamin called out from his perch on the roof. “Hannani, 500 yards, across the road. One of their men just made a big blunder.”
In the center of the ditch, Julia turned her head toward the house. What she saw sent an icy chill through her.
Steve lay in the prone firing position beside Benjamin at the peak of the roof.
This wasn't part of their plan either.
Now she knew their new plan, the one Steve and Benjamin had just improvised. There would be two dog soldiers instead of one.
Julia ran low, leaning forward and driving with her legs. As she flew down the ditch, with the warm evening air rushing by her ears, whistling like the wind, she sought some way to help Steve.
Please, give me a way to help him. America needs him … I need him.
* * *
Steve glanced at Benjamin in the prone position beside him on the roof of Jeff's house. “We've got to time this right or that thermobaric rocket will—”
“Got it, Steve. Now, have you spotted the Hannani?”
“He’s still about 500 yards out, in the trees in line with that big Madrone. He’s going to regret exposing himself.”
“He was probably trying to get line of sight in order to target us with their grenade launcher.”
“So the plan is we hold them off with gunfire until—”
“Until I tell you that you need to head for the ditch and get to Julia.”
Steve didn’t like where this was heading. “What about you?”
“Like you said, it's all in the timing.”
“So help me, Benjamin, if you're sacrificing yourself for us, I'll—”
“I'm—Steve, there he is.”
Steve tagged the Ranger holding a bazooka-like weapon on his shoulder and squeezed off a shot.
The man fell, dropping his weapon.
“He’s down.”
“Good. But we’ve warned them, so the others will be harder to spot. Like you said, he was careless.” Benjamin's body stiffened and he swung his weapon to the left. “They’re flanking us on the left. Time for you to go, before the house no longer blocks their view of the irrigation ditch. You need to get to Julia … now!”
“Dude, you’ve got to leave here before it gets too hot!” Steve rolled over and slid down the roof, out of view of Hannan's men, and dropped onto the deck. After several bounding strides, he jumped into the irrigation ditch.
A long, staccato burst of gunfire sounded from the roof. Benjamin was covering him.
Steve couldn't afford to look back. He needed to run hard, to reach Julia before any of the Hannanis flanking them saw his evacuation route.
A line of dust exploded along the top of the ditch. It ran by Steve’s right side.
Too late. They had spotted him.
They had flanked Benjamin on the left and clearly knew what Steve was attempting. Their bullets had missed. Would they use a rocket on him?
He accelerated to top speed. If they hit near him with a thermal rocket, either the shock or the fire would kill him.
Another burst of fire from Benjamin.
Steve risked a glance back over his shoulder.
Benjamin jumped from the roof and scampered into the house.
Why, Benjamin?
If they shot a rocket at the house, he was dead.
Movement out of the corner of his eye. Hannanis on the road. The man had Steve in his line of sight and was swinging the launcher onto his shoulder.
When the rocket exploded, would Steve feel it? Or would he just—forget the speculation. He needed to run hard and pray.
With only a hundred yards to go, Steve looked ahead, down the ditch.
Movement caught his eye. Julia?
She stood at the edge of the trees, waving her arms, exposing herself to—
The whoosh of a rocket sounded. The sound of death.
Twilight brightened to midday.
An invisible hammer slammed Steve to the bottom of the ditch. He got up, stumbled forward. No severe pain, but that didn't mean some of his internal organs hadn't been ripped loose.
Another blast. A blinding light flashed from the house. Too late for Benjamin. It came only ten seconds after he ran inside. Maybe he … no. He couldn't have survived.
Fifty yards ahead, a body lay in the ditch.
Please, God. Not Julia.
The blast must have knocked her into the ditch. Whatever they fired had to be bigger than an RP0-M. Maybe a SMAW with an even bigger thermobaric warhead.
Steve had seen death in battle many times before. He’d seen the death of a comrade, a fellow Ranger that he loved like a brother. But he’d never seen someone he could envision spending the rest of his life with lying dead. Seeing Julia face down in the ditch drove a spike into his chest. It drove another one into his gut and drained the life from his body.
Julia couldn't survive the effects of a thermobaric blast. The fiery explosion came wrapped in a warhead straight from hell, one that gave its victims a deadly preview of that place.
He stumbled toward Julia’s body. His sense of balance, like his life, had been knocked askew. Somehow, he had to go on alone and fill his role, but he couldn't leave Julia’s body lying there. Ranger’s never did that. And, what made it worse, she’d been trying to warn him, drawing their fire even though it meant sacrificing herself for him.
Beyond Julia’s body, flames attacked the dry pine forest.
How far back had the rocket hit? Thirty yards? That was roughly the weapon’s kill radius.
If she lived, almost any injury would be fatal, given their circumstances … needing to run up a mountain, no medical help for hours, maybe days.
Come on, Bancroft. Don’t think that way.
Steve slid to a stop near Julia.
Surprise jolted him when she moved.
Julia rose to her knees and held her head.
Another explosion sounded from the house. It lit the valley as bright as midday and sealed Benjamin's fate.
Steve prayed that the blast killed Benjamin before the flames got him.
When Steve reached Julia, she fell into his arms. He lifted her and accelerated to a sprint as he ran up out of the ditch. He headed for the trees, praying there wouldn't be a fourth explosion.
Dust kicked up all around them. The roaring fire almost drowned the tat, tat, tat from automatic rifles.
No pain. They must have missed him.
“I'm sorry, Steve.” Julia clung to him.
Her voice brought tears to his eyes. She didn’t realize she was dying.
He ran harder, putting the flames between him and Hannan's men and hoping that would stop the shooting.
How had their plan gone so far awry?
“Steve,” Julia choked out his name. “Please, don't be mad at me.”
Mad? He just hoped her death wouldn't be painful. “It's okay, Julia. I've got you and I won't let them catch us.”
She raised her head and looked over his shoulder as they ran into the darkness of the forest. “But they sure are trying to.”
How could she be so alert, so cognizant? It wouldn’t last. She would lapse into unconsciousness and then … He forced h
is mind to focus on something else. “How many of them, Julia?”
“Four ran after us, but there were more near the house. Maybe six.”
So, she was still clueless about her injuries. Soon the internal bleeding would kill her.
“Thanks. That helps.” He gasped for air. Probably hyperventilating more than being winded. “You saved my life…” A sob choked off his words. Tears streamed from his eyes and blew away behind him.
He sprinted at top speed, holding the woman he loved, but knowing he would soon lose her. “Julia, I stayed behind … tried to be the hero … so stupid.”
Julia’s lips brushed his ear as she leaned her head near his. “Steve, I knew the risks when I stepped out of the trees. It’s not your fault.”
But it was his fault. Just like before. It was always his fault.
In the last of the twilight, an old, overgrown logging road came into view. It headed up the mountain in front of them, to the ridge, their first checkpoint.
Could he lose Hannan’s men before reaching the ridge?
Did it even matter?
Yes, it mattered. Julia needed to know she was safe from Hannan’s men and in the arms of someone who loved her when she died. No matter the cost, he would not let her die alone.
* * *
Julia’s arms circled Steve's neck. She studied the darkness behind them as the powerful Ranger carried her at a furious pace up an old road toward the top of the ridge.
Steve's hoarse, raspy breathing told her he was struggling to maintain his pace. No one could run to the top of the mountain with a 110-pound load in his arms. But Steve didn’t slow down. If anything, he accelerated.
This man had said he loved her when the Gulfstream appeared to be falling from the sky. Now he would kill himself for her. How could she convince him she wasn’t worth it?
Julia turned her head toward his ear. “Steve, please don’t do this. Slow down. Your heart will burst if you don't.”
No reply.
“Put me down. I can run.”