WARRIOR (CROSSFIRE SEALS, #5)

by Gennita Low

  Ah. There had been some kind of skirmish. “And they helped you run to the wall and you climbed it,” Kit said.

  Minah shook her head again. “No, they were fighting. I just ran. No one helped me.” She paused, frowning, as if remembering something. “No, the man on top of the wall, he helped. He pulled me up. And he was a Westerner. Not local.”

  Whoa. Kit leaned forward. She glanced over at Joanna. “Ask her whether all the men who helped her were Westerners.”

  The girl nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, they were Westerners. Dressed all in black, with black guns and face all streaked like fierce warriors. I don’t know who they are but they were after some people. Not from my family.” She said the last sentence firmly, as if to affirm she wasn’t part of the other tribal group. She gripped her scarf nervously, tying and untying it. “Everyone is angry with me now. My own family, the teachers here, the jirga. They told me being disobedient like this is very bad and I bring shame to my family, running off. Is it wrong? Do you think everyone hates me?”

  “Of course not. We don’t hate you,” Kit said. Haltingly, she pointed to herself and said in Pashto, “I will help.”

  Joanna turned to her sharply. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. How are you going to help her?”

  “International exposure. Something. We have to try, Joanna.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you can’t tell her that. She’s too young to understand how long that might take.”

  Minah grabbed her hand and said, in English, “Thank you. Want go school. Malala, my heroine.”

  She was nodding at Kit and Joanna, waiting for their confirmation that they understood her English and she beamed when they nodded back.

  “Ask her where she can stay while we get help for her. I mean, her family is mad at her. What’s her family name? And the other family too. We’re going to have to make sure we don’t accidentally talk to the wrong people.”

  Kit wrote down in her notebook. The names are all so long and difficult to remember. Malala, the girl about whom Minah was talking, was the name of the brave little girl who lived in the Swat Valley, who was shot because of her activism promoting education for women. Kit was now more than a little worried about the same fate happening to Minah.

  She muttered to Joanne. “Back home, we’re trying to get our girls to stay in school and not marry young. Over here, it’s the complete opposite. They shoot at girls who want to go to school!”

  “Education is dangerous, my friend. And an educated female is even more so,” Joanna murmured back.

  “I’m going to make that the headline of our piece,” Kit told her.

  The laptop screen came back to the live feed, with Sean’s face peering in, his voice urgent. “Get out of there. Over. Get out of there, Kit. There are two vehicles heading your—fuck!”

  There were some fuzzy images—houses shown sideways, running feet, scenery going by at odd angles—on the screen, like someone holding on to a moving cam and running. At the same time, Kit heard high-pitched voices out in front and the unmistakable squealing of tires. Then—a crash. People were shouting and screaming. Then, angry male voices.

  They all jumped out of their seats. For one second, Kit stood there, her mind blank, indecisive.

  Hamidah’s head popped in, her eyes filled with fear. “They are here for her!” She pointed at Minah. “You have to go with them before they kill us all!”

  Kit snatched up her laptop and backpack. She looked around her. There were no windows from which to climb out.

  * * *

  The moment Jazz made the turn and entered the refugee camp area, they all smelled it. The acrid smoky smell of burning. Something was on fire.

  Everyone was running in one direction, pointing and shouting—men, women, children. Lucas hung his head out of the window, craning his neck to look beyond the gathering crowd.

  “I suppose there’s no fire department to call,” he commented.

  “We’re supposed to meet with the comptroller at the office,” Vivi said. “I’m sure no one is there right now.”

  “We’ll follow the crowd but the vehicle is moving too slowly. Cumber, you guys get out and see what’s going on. If it’s a big fire, ‘com’ me. I’ll radio for help.

  * * *

  “Is there a back door?” Kit asked, striding towards Hamidah.

  “Yes,” the woman replied. “In the kitchen.”

  “Kit grabbed Minah’s hand. “Let’s go!”

  Once they were out of the classroom, the shouts were louder, followed by horrific crashes, as if people were kicking down doors and furniture. There were shrieks from the women and children. Kit recognized some of the words.

  “Stop!”

  “Help us!”

  What was happening out front? Surely Minah’s family wouldn’t hurt innocent women and children.

  The three of them rushed along, following Hamidah. There seemed to be an endless array of corridors leading to the back. Turning a corner, their flight came to an immediate halt. Black smoke wafted out of the doorway in front of them. The kitchen was on fire.

  ***

  Lucas looked over the heads of the men in front of him and swore.

  “That’s the school,” Lucas told Mink, lengthening his strides. “Radio back to Jazz. Tell them the school’s on fire. I overheard Vivi saying the girl she’s picking up is inside. Come on, let’s get over there.”

  He pushed several onlookers out of the way. Some of the men were pulling out hoses. Others were standing in line with buckets.

  As he ran nearer, he gave the surroundings a quick inspection. He didn’t like what he was seeing. There was a big truck blocking the front of the school building. Another smaller truck had rammed through what looked like the remains of the entrance. A pile of wood was burning brightly near the front steps, but that couldn’t be what was causing so much panic among the women standing in a group and screaming.

  As he reached the fence, the damage to it let him know it too had been rammed by something large—like a truck, for instance. And at the same instance, he saw the weapons in the men’s hands.

  “Mink,” Lucas said, pulling his weapon out.

  “I see them. Informing Jazz right now,” Mink said, from behind him.

  “Counted about ten. Three are defending the entrance. A few of them don’t look Pashtun,” Dirk observed. “They look...different. Body language is different.”

  “I say we go up there and make it three less,” Lucas suggested. The people around him were already parting for them, as if asking them to do something.

  “Jazz says fire truck is coming but it’ll take a bit. It’s at nearby village. Careful, though, bro. We don’t want to cause an incident,” Dirk said.

  A shriek from behind interrupted them. A woman was running towards the school. “Oh, my daughter! My daughter’s inside!”

  There was a loud pop, then an explosion. Everyone, used to sudden explosive devices, immediately jumped for cover. Lucas started running.

  “That came from the school,” he yelled over his shoulder. “I think that clarifies an incident is in progress.”

  * * *

  Heart in mouth, Kit swerved around, pulling Minah along. Did they use gas to cook in here?

  “Run! We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “But the men in front!”

  “There isn’t any other way, Joanna! If they have gas back there—”

  They retraced their steps. Hamidah was in hysterics, praying and sobbing. The smoke was already getting thicker and soon they would be choking on it if they didn’t hurry. Kit grimly wondered whether she was going to make it out alive.

  ***

  By the time Lucas reached the entrance, the small explosion had scattered the fight. One man was still valiantly struggling to get through two others who were brandishing their weapons at him. Tall and tan, he didn’t look Pakistani or local. Why weren’t they firing their weapons?

  Perhaps because there were too many women and children c
owering behind overturned furniture and carts. Or perhaps they had a specific target. One of the attackers appeared to grow tired of just pushing back and went for his weapon slung over his shoulder. No time to figure things out too much. Lucas jumped into the fray.

  Fighting hand-to-hand wasn’t a problem for three SEALs but there was a disadvantage with the other party having the bigger weapons. This wasn’t an ambush, though, and these men weren’t acting as if they were here for battle. In fact, a few of them were just leaning against the truck, smoking cigarettes and watching the whole thing and not taking part in the melee. They seemed to be waiting.

  Lucas couldn’t worry about that. An explosion meant a fire and more explosions. He could put two and two together quickly enough. Obviously, they were after the runaway girl from last night, the one whom Vivi was intending to save, and—he winced as a punch connected with his stab wound. He turned and smashed a fist into his opponent’s face.

  Everything was happening very fast but in his mind’s eye, he could see everything in slow motion. He caught glimpses of Mink and Dirk fighting back to back, punching and kicking. He knew they were running out of time because sooner or later these guys would change their minds about using their weapons and things would turn violent in a bad way.

  Another small explosion rocked the building and the ground beneath their feet roiled like they were on deck in a bad storm, causing all of them to stumble about for a few seconds. Lucas fell against a pillar, his head making contact with something hard. He shook away the pain, looking about.

  The whole place was a mess. He could see a pile of burnt paper in the smoldering fire that had first caught their attention. So that was what these fuckers were burning. Doors and planks lay around him, along with guys who had been thrown off their feet. The windows spat out smoke and dust. The men who had been throwing buckets of water through them had fallen onto their backs.

  The small pause of inaction lasted only long enough before another set of loud female voices—he recognized English being spoken and Pashto—punctuated the air as well as sounds of some kind of struggle coming from within the building near the blown-out doors. Lucas steadied himself against the pillar.

  He squinted his eyes as a group of people, all tangled together—arms, legs, hair—appeared. What the fuck—is that Kit?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lucas gave himself a mental shake. If that wasn’t Kit yelling and kicking at a Pakistani punk over there, he would eat his boot. There seemed to be a tug of war contest going on—a young girl in between Kit and the man.

  “Kit!” Someone yelled, running into the fight. It was the man who had been trying to get by the two guarding the entrance.

  “Sean! Help, don’t let him take her!”

  Everything happened at once. Lucas took a step forward. The punk hanging on to the young girl kicked out at Kit. The men who had been standing by the truck started spraying bullets. Everyone around dived for cover. Panicked screams. Running feet. Confusion everywhere.

  Kit!

  Uncaring about his safety, Lucas ran towards where the struggle had been, his eyes looking for Kit. She was on her knees, trying to get up, still yelling at the top of her voice.

  “Stop those men! Stop! Sean, get off my legs!”

  “Stay down, you idiot!” The man holding her down ordered angrily. “They’re shooting at us.”

  “Let go! They’re taking Minah away!”

  Intent on getting to Kit, Lucas pushed some bodies standing in his way, watching as she got on her feet to run down the steps after the assailants. By the time he closed in on the half-toppled porch, she was fifteen feet away, running hard after the truck which had already begun to rumble off.

  “Stop! Stop!”

  Her voice, with that edge of desperation, cut at Lucas. “Kit!” he called out.

  But she either didn’t hear or she chose to ignore him. His heart dropped into his stomach when the sound of gunfire came from the departing vehicle. His idiot girl kept going, ignoring the splattering dust from the bullets hitting the ground. Apparently, these guys didn’t want to kill anybody here, shooting at the dirt instead of people. But still, stray bullets could ricochet off anything and hit somebody. Kit didn’t seem to care about that.

  He had no choice. He had to run after her.

  He took off without a backward glance. If Mink and Dirk were close by, they would have his back, taking charge until Jazz and Vivi arrived. He didn’t think there was anyone to rescue back there. Whoever had started the fire—and he had a fair idea about their identities—had whom they were after and were getting out of the camp. Mink and Dirk just needed to get everyone to a safe distance from the school.

  Ahead, Kit was yanking open the door to a van and sliding inside. Lucas sped up even more. The few seconds it took for her to turn on the engine gave him just enough time to reach the other side, pull the passenger door open, and jump in. She stepped on the accelerator and turned to him.

  “Sean, we have to—” Her eyes rounded at the sight of him, her jaw dropping.

  “Cupcake,” Lucas said. He reached out and turned her face toward the windshield. “Keep your eyes on the road or you’ll hit some kid.”

  There was a slight pause as she adjusted her speed. “Lucas? What are you doing here?”

  “I can ask you the same thing but obviously you’re in fucking disguise as Wonder Woman.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  The truck ahead was heedlessly speeding off, not even honking at anyone in its way. People were jumping to the left and right to avoid being hit. At least that gave their vehicle some leeway to speed up too.

  “Wonder Woman?” Kit repeated.

  “Yeah, you think you can deflect bullets with your wrist bands? What the fuck were you thinking, running after that truck? Those guys have weapons, or haven’t you noticed?”

  The van bounced violently as it ran over a big rut in the road. Lucas put a hand on the dashboard to prevent his head from hitting the windshield.

  “I don’t know. They weren’t shooting at me, anyhow. Just at the ground or in the air so people wouldn’t interfere.”

  Lucas shook his head. “How do you know that? And what are you doing now?”

  Kit gave him a brief glance. “Can’t you tell? I’m chasing after the truck!”

  “You have no plan!” Lucas yelled back. “What are you going to do, follow them home?”

  In reply, Kit sped up, closing in on the truck ahead. They were out of the camp site and Lucas could see they were heading towards the mountain trails.

  “If they’re going into the mountains, they have to stop somewhere for horses,” she told him stubbornly.

  They were indeed making their way very quickly up the trails into the mountains.

  “And then what? Are you going to ask them nicely for the girl and they would nicely hand her over to you?’ Lucas asked.

  “I don’t know! I needed to do something! What would you have done? Let them take her?”

  “That’s different.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I’m a man and I have weapons.”

  “Yeah, I’m a woman and I have weapons too. Big deal.”

  He felt like pulling his hair out. The woman had no concept of danger. She sped up even more as the truck ahead kept going at breakneck speed. Higher and higher they climbed. He had to stop her or they were really going to be out of reach, two against a truck of angry men. He was about to yell something caustic at her when something caught his attention. The flap at the back of the truck opened up and a figure appeared. He steadied himself in the speeding vehicle as he adjusted something held high against his body.

  “Oh, fuck,” he said quietly.

  It was unmistakable what it was. Lucas had carried it numerous times. A lightweight grenade launcher.

  “RPG! RPG ahead!” Conditioned by his training, he yelled out. It was reflexive—usually, he had his team or a bunch of men around him who would be expecting shouts ale
rting them of danger ahead. He realized his mistake instantly, how useless his grim warning was. He was all alone with a civilian female. Kit wouldn’t understand what to do next.

  He reached out to grab the steering wheel, but found her shoulder instead. He turned his attention from the guy in the truck. Kit was leaning all the way forward, eyes staring straight ahead. The van’s engine revved as she floored the accelerator.

  “HOO-YAHHHhhhh!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

  Lucas stared at her, then grinned. Love sure had lousy timing. He turned back to face death instead.

  They were so close he could see the tribal man’s face broke out into a sneer as he took aim. Another stupid thought whooshed by in his head. Death was coming fast and furious, baby.

  Smoke from the grenade leaving the launcher.

  The longest second in his life went by.

  Then, a horrendous crunch as metal met metal, a high-pitched grind as their speeding vehicle took the hit and their bodies absorbed the shock of the impact. He could hear the tires and brakes squealing as the vehicle swerved out of control. Kit swore a blue streak as she tried to get it back in control. They swayed one side and then the other, and he could have sworn the damn van was on two wheels at one point.

  He gritted his teeth as they went mid-air, then landed like a pile of junkyard metal back onto the road. The acrid smell of wires burning filled the air. The van finally slid to a dull stop, facing the opposite side of where they were going.

  Silence.

  Lucas found his hand still gripping Kit’s shoulder. Hers were still clutching the wheel for dear life, her knuckles showing white. They were both panting hard, as if they had been running a marathon. His own heart thumped painfully against his chest and it took an effort for him to unclench his hand that was holding her so tightly.

  He slowly, deliberately, wiped off the bead of sweat trickling down the side of his cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m thinking we didn’t get killed with that hare-brained move.”