Strike Fast

by Kaylea Cross

  “I’m on it.”

  Tess eased the cyclic back to slow them, her eyes fixed on the rapidly approaching strip of dirt that would serve as their runway. The helo’s nose came up but without the tail rotor to keep them straight, they were still moving to the right.

  Dammit. She had to time this just right and land nose-first, otherwise they’d flip over and over and crush everybody on board.

  Her muscles tensed, her body bracing for impact as the nose swung around to face forward once more. The narrow strip of road loomed nearer, rushing at them as she cleared the trees.

  Now!

  She drove them down hard into the ground. The wheels hit with such force it snapped them forward in their harnesses. Tess grunted and reached for the power levers as they shot off the ground for a second, then bounced again.

  She buried the cyclic, but the trees ahead of them were coming up too fast. The Blackhawk skidded across the dirt surface, somehow staying right-side up. She half-turned in her seat as they screamed toward the far tree line, instinctively angling her body in an instinctive attempt to steer them, but it was no use.

  The tip of the main rotor then the nose smashed into the trees with a bone-rattling thud. Glass and metal crunched around her.

  Tess’s four-point harness jerked taut over her shoulders. Her right collarbone snapped. She swallowed a scream, a thin cry escaping her as needles of agony shot out from her right shoulder.

  Through the haze of pain, she was dimly aware of the main rotor slashing through the tree trunks, getting chewed to hell, bits of metal and debris flying through the cockpit. Something stung her left cheek like an angry hornet. She gasped, fighting for breath, her left hand still on the collective, her right arm hanging at her side.

  Beside her, the copilot quickly pulled the fire levers, arming the onboard fire extinguishers and instantly shutting down the twin turbine engines.

  Tess fought to clear her head, struggling to breathe through the pain. Smoke filled the cockpit, the acrid stench of hot oil heavy in the air. The windscreen and chin bubble were destroyed, the front end of the aircraft distorted around the tree trunks they’d slammed into.

  Get out.

  “Everyone out,” she commanded through gritted teeth. She couldn’t move her right arm. Her copilot seemed okay, but she wasn’t sure about the guys in the back.

  “Tess, you hurt?” the copilot asked.

  “My collarbone,” she gasped out, fumbling with her left hand to hit the single button quick release on her harness.

  She hadn’t realized how much of an angle the cockpit was bent forward until the harness released. Her body fell forward in the seat, and she threw out her left arm to keep from smashing into the control panel, the sudden movement wrenching another cry from her as white-hot needles ripped through her right shoulder.

  The copilot leaned over her. “I’ve got you.” Strong hands gripped her under the arms. Her pain-filled scream echoed through the ruined cockpit as he hauled her up and muscled her between the seats and into the back.

  Agony engulfed her, stealing her breath, rendering her immobile. Someone else grabbed her around the waist. She forced her eyes open, stared up at her crew chief through the fog of pain.

  “Got you, Tess,” he said, quickly moving backward as they carried her together out the left side cabin door. Shredded trees covered the ground like sawdust, branches and bits of the chewed-up rotor blades strewn all over.

  “The crew,” she forced out, trying to counteract the pain and shock. She was pilot commander. She had to clear her head, look out for her crew.

  “All accounted for. Banged up, one’s got a leg injury, but not as bad off as you,” the chief said.

  She sagged in relief at the news, closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as every step they took jarred her injured shoulder.

  They carried her a safe distance away from the ruined aircraft and set her down, leaning her back against a tree trunk. Her left cheek stung like hell, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her shoulder. She grabbed hold of her right upper arm, cradling it to her side to relieve the pressure on her broken bone.

  The sharp, staccato beat of gunfire echoed in the distance, probably from near the target house. Tess’s eyes snapped open, scanning through the trees for any sign of a threat. One or both teams must have engaged the enemy. Her copilot immediately got on the radio to contact command and let them know everyone had survived.

  “Here. I’m gonna try and stop the bleeding,” her crew chief said, putting a gauze pad to her left cheek and pressing hard.

  She was shaking, sucking in choppy breaths while her heart raced, pins and needles in her hands and feet. Breathing way too fast. Slow it down, Tess. Get control.

  “Where else hurts?”

  “R-right collarbone,” she forced out. “Can’t m-move my arm.”

  He used an elastic bandage as a makeshift sling around her right arm and bound it to her body, then wrapped a thin thermal blanket around her. “Eat this,” he said, pressing something to her lips.

  Before she could protest or ask what it was, she smelled chocolate and obediently chewed it up, willing the sugar to counteract the shock a little. “Where the hell did that RPG come from?” she said after she swallowed, the pain a bit more bearable now that her arm was secured.

  “Barely saw it before it hit,” the crew chief said.

  Shit, that had been close.

  Her copilot was on the radio to someone back at command. He stopped in mid-sentence, his gaze swinging in the direction of the firefight. “Roger that.” He set the radio down, his expression urgent as he faced Tess and the others. “Command says a handful of Ruiz’s men are moving in our direction, and they’re coming fast.”

  ****

  Reid stood frozen behind Taggart, his gaze glued in horror to the monitor in front of him, trying to process what he’d just seen.

  He’d just watched Tess’s aircraft fucking crash into the trees. The helo’s wreckage was hidden from view by the thick canopy obscuring the satellite, and now both FAST Bravo and the HRT were engaged with the enemy force at the target property. The other Blackhawk was nearby, but there was no room for the crew to land to attempt a rescue.

  Taggart put his hand over the bottom of the phone and half-turned to Reid. “They’re all alive, but Dubrovski and one of the crew are hurt.”

  God, not Tess. Before Reid could ask how badly, Taggart resumed his conversation.

  Then Reid’s attention caught on a sat feed showing four men coming in and out of view through the trees, heading in the direction of the crash site. They were armed, and dressed in civvies rather than uniforms.

  Ruiz’s men.

  Fear shot through Reid, but Taggart had already seen it. He alerted the person on the other end to the threat and told him to stand by. Then he called out in a loud voice so everyone in the RV could hear him. “I need volunteers to get in there and rescue the crew.”

  “I’ll go,” Reid said automatically, already turning for the door. There was nothing he could do for Autumn at the moment, but he sure as shit could get in there and protect Tess.

  Taggart grabbed his upper arm to stop him, his pale aqua gaze intense. “I’m putting you in charge. Pick four agents and gear up, then get out there before Ruiz’s men do.”

  Reid leapt into action. He rounded up four special agents providing perimeter security and found a ballistic vest, helmet and weapons. They didn’t have much time, so after a brief rundown of the situation and a look at the map, they jumped in an agency SUV and roared off to a spot up the road that put them as close as they could get to the crash site.

  He hopped out of the vehicle and took point as they entered the forest that stood between them and the downed helo crew, on alert for Ruiz’s men. Seventy yards in, the distant crack of sporadic gunfire filtered through the trees.

  “We’ve lost visual on you,” Taggart’s voice said in Reid’s earpiece. “Be advised, enemy force is a hundred-twenty-yards east of crash s
ite, and closing.”

  Reid moved faster. “Copy.” The race was on to reach the crew before Ruiz’s men did.

  The dense trees and heavy underbrush made it impossible to maintain a straight path as he led them deeper into the woods, using a compass to keep his bearings. About a half mile in, the smell of oil-laden smoke reached them. Looking up, Reid spotted a plume of dark gray overhead, trailing west from the downed helo. An arrow pointing right to them, for both rescuer and foe.

  They pushed faster, hurrying through the woods as the sound of the distant gunfire grew louder. Reid shifted his grip on his rifle, all his senses on alert as they neared the far side of the forested area. Pausing just inside the screen of trees that bordered the old logging road to look around, he spotted the smoking helo about fifty yards to the left, then swung his gaze right.

  The moment he saw Tess conscious, propped against a tree and wrapped in the silver thermal blanket, his heart rate slowed and he pulled in a deep breath. They’d made it in time.

  “Chalk two, we’re moving toward you from your ten o’clock,” he told the crewmember monitoring the radio frequency.

  “We copy.”

  Reid signaled the others behind him to move forward, and emerged from the trees.

  The crewmember hunched down beside Tess said something to her. She twisted her head around to look, her honey-blond hair fallen out of its normally neat bun and tangled around her face and shoulders. Blood smeared the lower half of her left cheek. When their gazes connected, the sheer relief on her pain-pinched face made his chest tighten.

  Directing three of his men to maintain a perimeter, he and the fifth man started toward the crew. Reid hurried to Tess and crouched down beside her while the other man went to check out the other injured crewmember.

  He set a hand on the uninjured side of her face, bringing her gaze to his. “Hey, sweetheart.” He didn’t care if it gave his feelings for her away to the others. He was just so damn glad she was alive after that harrowing crash. “Where are you hurt?”

  She peered up at him with pain-glazed eyes. Her pupils were evenly dilated though. “Right collarbone,” she muttered, grimacing as she shifted.

  She was beyond pale, her skin having an almost grayish tinge. He was worried about internal injuries as well. He slid his fingers around her wrist, pressing the pads of his index and middle finger gently against her radial artery. Her pulse was rapid, but strong.

  “I put a sling around it as best I could,” her crewmember said to Reid.

  Reid kept his gaze on Tess and released her left wrist to gently palpate her ribs and abdomen. She didn’t even flinch. “Let me see that cut.” He gently angled it toward him so he could see it better. Head and facial wounds bled like a mother. Something had sliced her skin open about an inch below her cheekbone, a couple inches long, but it didn’t look too deep. “Can I take a look at your shoulder?”

  She nodded, lips pressed together in a tight line that told him she was in a shitload of pain. As carefully as he could, he peeled the thermal blanket away from her upper body. They hadn’t removed or cut the top half of her flight suit, and her right arm was bound across her chest.

  Straddling her thighs, he balanced on the balls of his feet and pulled the collar of her flight suit aside. One look told him the clavicle was broken. Badly. A large lump lay beneath her skin at the edge of her shoulder, the amount of swelling and the bluish-purple color dead giveaways.

  “Can you feel your right hand and fingers?” he asked.

  She gave him a tight nod, her breaths choppy.

  Good. “Anywhere else hurt?”

  “No.” She winced again and stilled, sucking in a sharp breath.

  He was betting she was beat up in other places, but the amount of pain from her busted collarbone was masking everything else. But he was confident she didn’t have any internal injuries. “Listen, we’ve got to move all of you out of here now. A few of Ruiz’s men are headed this way.”

  Those pretty eyes focused on him and she nodded. “Okay.”

  Reid leaned down a bit to wrap an arm around her waist, careful to steer clear of her right shoulder. “Can you stand?” A glance to the right confirmed that the agents Reid had brought were standing guard while the crewmembers helped their injured comrade up onto his good leg.

  “Yeah.” She slipped her left arm around his waist, got to one knee and then pushed to her feet, hissing air between her teeth, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

  He hated like hell to see her hurting but there was nothing he could do for it right now except get her to safety. “There you go,” he said, shifting his grip on her. “You gonna be able to walk out of here?” They had to follow the same route he and the others had just taken. He’d carry her if necessary, but it would hurt her a hell of a lot more.

  Her eyes opened and she gave a terse nod. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to answer verbally when she was in that kind of pain.

  “Okay then.” He glanced at the others. “Let’s get moving.” He placed one of the agents out front, then moved in third in line with Tess and left the others to bring up the rear.

  “How close are they?” Tess managed between breaths as they started through the woods. Every step would jar her shoulder, sending a fresh wave of pain through the broken bone. Reid would have spared her if he could have, but their safety dictated they move fast.

  “Close enough that we can’t stop. So if this gets to be too much for you, let me know and I’ll carry you.” He contacted Taggart using the two-way radio. “Crew’s secured. We’re heading back to the vehicle.”

  “Copy. Still no visual on you, or the tangos.”

  “Understood.” He squeezed Tess’s waist. “Let’s get outta here.”

  She didn’t answer, just tightened her grip around him and doggedly kept moving forward. It was quiet now, the distant gunfire silent.

  Too quiet.

  Fifty paces into the trees, a tingling in his gut had him tensing. He stopped and looked to the right, scanning the heavy underbrush. The others stopped too, followed his gaze.

  A gunshot rang out through the trees, shattering the stillness. Bark flew off a tree trunk not eight feet from where Reid stood.

  “Down,” he snapped at Tess, pushing her to the ground and grabbing his rifle, ignoring her cry of pain. He stepped in front of her prone body and dropped to one knee, trying to get a bead on the shooter, or at least which direction the shot had come from.

  A second shot pierced the air, hitting the foliage above him.

  Then Reid spotted him. Screened by the leafy branches and undergrowth, half-hidden behind a tree trunk. “Four o’clock, thirty yards,” he said to the others.

  He didn’t have to look back to know the agents were getting into firing position, all his focus on the threat in front of him. Reid searched for his target. Was this the asshole who’d taken Autumn? His finger was steady on the trigger guard, just waiting for the guy to give him an opening. Enough to bury a bullet in him.

  “Give me your sidearm,” Tess grated out behind him.

  Keeping his eyes trained on the area where the shot had come from, Reid quickly slid his pistol from the holster on his thigh and passed it back to her.

  “Prentiss.”

  The sound of Hamilton’s voice in his earpiece startled him. “Yeah, here,” he said, sighting down the barrel of his rifle.

  “What’s your position?”

  “Sixty yards northwest of the crash site, in the trees,” he murmured, still watching for an opening. “We’re taking fire.”

  “We can hear it. House is cleared, HRT’s searching it, so we’re headed your way.”

  Please let Autumn be there. “Music to my ears,” he answered, his entire body coiled, ready as he scanned the trees.

  Bring it, assholes.

  A deep, pulsing rage built inside him, speeding up his breaths. He would take out every last one of these motherfuckers singlehandedly for what they’d put his baby girl through.

  “Han
g tight, we’re coming to you.”

  “Copy.”

  “Eleven o’clock,” Tess cried behind him.

  Reid’s gaze shot to the place she’d indicated, and he caught a flash of movement through the trees. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he realized what it meant. The bastards were trying to surround them.

  He used hand signals and quiet commands to alert the others, and locked on the target area, watching for more movement, poised to fire.

  Three shots cracked through the air in rapid succession. The bullets hit a tree not ten feet from where Reid crouched.

  But the shooter had just given away his position. Reid honed in on it, waited a heartbeat, and the moment he saw movement, squeezed the trigger.

  A strangled yell mixed with the rifle’s report. Then the rest of the enemy opened up.

  Rounds peppered their position, shredding leaves and branches around them, above them. Reid cursed and spun around to dive on top of Tess, but she’d already flattened herself on the ground, making as small a target as possible, her expression strained, eyes locked on the distant trees as she aimed the pistol with her left hand.

  Her bravery in the face of danger while badly injured touched him on the deepest level.

  Reid dove to the ground in front of her, shielding her with his body while he settled the butt of his weapon against his shoulder and took aim. Several of his team began returning fire. A round hit the ground so close to him he heard its whine. Dirt sprayed into his face. He blinked it from his eyes and searched for a target, fired the second he locked on something moving in the underbrush.

  A hidden enemy fired from the right. The rounds sprayed torn-up leaves and earth a yard from where Tess lay stretched out on her belly. She flinched and flattened her cheek against the ground, covering her head with her good arm.

  Fuck. Reid swung his body around, putting himself between her and the new shooter to return fire, not even bothering to wait for a target.

  Shots cracked from behind them.

  One of Reid’s men cried out and fell, clutching his side.

  Shit, they’ve surrounded us.

  Reid swung the barrel of his rifle around to face the new threat and fired, hoping to make the shooter take cover. But how many were there? He and the others couldn’t stay here pinned down and be picked off one by one, it was suicidal.