A moment later gunshots sounded, and then he was lying motionless at her feet. Her scream pierced the air as the window shattered and she watched wide-eyed as two men dressed completely in black jumped into the room, one from the balcony and the other through the door. The man who had come through the window stepped on the gunman’s hand, which still held the weapon, and checked for a pulse. Amy didn’t have to be told that the man was dead.
A helicopter echoed in the distance, but she didn’t recognize the sound. Shock paralyzed her and her breath came in shallow bursts.
“Are you okay, miss?” The voice was all-American, the face smeared with something dark.
She knew he was talking to her, but her brain wasn’t functioning well enough for her to think to respond. Nervously, Amy looked around the room again. The other gunman was also sprawled out lifeless on the floor. She couldn’t catch her breath, and suddenly the rapid shallow breaths weren’t enough. She gasped for air, her chest tightening as she struggled for another breath.
“Take it easy.” The black-clad American pushed her head between her knees and spoke in a calm voice despite the gunshots that were still sounding somewhere downstairs. “We’re here to take you home. You’re hyperventilating. I need you to relax.”
His voice was soothing, but still she struggled.
“Come on now. In, out. In, out.” He put a hand on her back, rubbing it back and forth. “That’s it.”
His hand stilled on her back and Amy lifted her head, finally able to get some air. She noticed for the first time the communications headset he wore as he made a comment into the little microphone by his mouth. He turned his attention back to her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m going to check on the others. Just wait right here.”
Amy watched him move effortlessly from one hostage to another as his partner started at the other end and worked toward him. They gave each of the hostages whatever emergency medical treatment was necessary to transport them. Finally, he moved back to where she was still sitting.
“Can you walk?”
Amy nodded, chastising herself for falling apart. Still shaking, she pointed across the room. “Is Frank okay? He was shot in the leg.”
The man nodded. “He’ll be fine. The members of my team are going to move the wounded into the helicopter, and then we’ll get you out of here.”
He took up a position by the door, weapon in hand, as two other men came in and helped move the wounded out of the room. He appeared completely in tune with everything around him, but his stance was relaxed.
Amy watched him, wondering what it must be like to work in the armed forces. He probably didn’t have any idea where he would be next month, or even next week, but would just be going where his superiors sent him. She shook her head, surprised that her mind was wandering at a time such as this. Still, she was grateful that there were people like him in the world—people who were willing to sacrifice their personal freedoms to protect her safety.
When the last of the wounded had finally been escorted out along with the other female hostage, the man returned to Amy and reached out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
Amy let him pull her to her feet and was surprised when she had to tilt her head back to look at him. At six feet tall, she was used to looking most men in the eye. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked. When he nodded, she continued. “What’s your name?”
He smiled at that as though they had just met at the grocery store instead of in the middle of a rescue operation. “Lieutenant Brent Miller, U.S. Navy SEAL.”
“Well, Lieutenant.” Amy brushed off her sweatpants and turned her gaze back to Brent. “Thanks for dropping by.”
“Anytime.”
Brent pushed open the door to the roof, where Tristan was helping the British woman onto the helicopter. The hostages needing medical attention were already settled in the back of the 72-foot-long helicopter along with Quinn. The rest of the team had already taken their seats as well, except for Kel, who was waiting for Brent by the door.
Brent took Amy’s hand in his and pulled her to a ducking position as he escorted her to the waiting chopper. They were barely inside when his commanding officer yelled to the pilot.
“All bodies in!” Kel shouted, motioning for them to strap in as he took his own seat. “Let’s get outta here!”
Still holding onto her arm, Brent helped Amy into a seat as they took off. A moment later a bright light flashed and the helicopter rocked violently. Sparks flew from the door next to Amy, and flames licked along the bottom of the doorway. A split second later, the door latch sparked and the door crashed open. Tristan grabbed a fire extinguisher and doused the flames in the now-open doorway.
“Where’s it coming from?” Quinn shouted over the cries of the hostages.
“Looks like another terrorist cell in that building. There’s an antiaircraft gun on the roof,” Kel answered, pulling his microphone in front of his mouth to communicate with the pilot as they increased altitude. “How bad are we hit?”
“We’re okay as long as we get out of range fast,” the pilot told him, already turning the helicopter away from the threat. “We just got word that the insurgence is spreading. Everyone is pulling out.”
Kel turned his attention to Tristan, who had abandoned the fire extinguisher and now had both gloved hands on what was left of the door handle. “Get that door closed.”
“It’s jammed. I can’t close it.”
“Then get strapped in.”
Tristan reclaimed his seat and glanced at Amy, who was staring wide-eyed at the charred black edges that surrounded the open doorway next to her. Tristan pointed to the seat belt that was not yet fastened around her. “Get buckled in!”
Before Amy could comply, the helicopter rocked violently onto its side to avoid another attack. Brent heard Amy’s scream and turned just in time to see her tumble out of her seat and grasp for something to hold onto. Another evasive maneuver by the pilot sent her sliding toward the hole where the door should have been. Brent tore off his seat belt and lunged after her, sprawling out on the floor of the helicopter that was currently at a forty-five degree angle. He grabbed Amy’s wrist just as her body slid through the doorway into open space.
Brent felt someone grab his feet to keep him from tumbling out right after her, but his eyes stayed on Amy. Her body was dangling in the air, her blue eyes wide with shock and fear. The angle of the helicopter made it impossible for her to reach the landing skid to stop her fall or use it to help herself climb back in.
His own upper body was hanging halfway out of the helicopter, and he could feel at least two of his teammates struggling to support his weight along with Amy’s. The pilot’s voice came over his headset. “The horizontal stabilizer must be damaged. Get everything secured. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
Brent reached down with his other arm to grasp her wrist, hoping to pull her in, but gravity was an opponent he wasn’t able to overcome. He saw her awareness. She knew that the only thing keeping her from plummeting more than thirty feet to the ground was the slippery grip Brent had on her arm. She was a hanging target as the pilot tried to move out of the city with gunfire sounding in the streets below.
She was slipping, and Brent knew that it was only a matter of time before his grip faltered. He could hear one of his teammates trying to edge in beside him, but the angle of the helicopter was still tilted dangerously to one side. Another minute hanging and one of the antiaircraft guns was bound to get a clean shot.
A split second was all it took for Brent to make his decision. He wasn’t going to let this woman die like this, and he knew all of the hostages were at risk until they cleared the border. Brent called out to Kel.
“Have the pilot head for the biggest roof he can find.” Brent kept his eyes on Amy’s. “Preferably in a nice dark corner of the city.”
“We’re losing fuel.” Kel’s voice came over the headset Brent wore. “If you can’t bring her in now, we may not get anothe
r chance.”
“I’m going with her,” Brent said, instantly hearing scrambling going on behind him. He knew the risks, but sometimes the only way to save something was to let it go. If they were losing fuel, they might not be able to take off again if they landed. Since his grip wasn’t solid enough to pull her in at this angle, he had no other choice.
The helicopter dropped altitude, and Brent prayed that he could hold on long enough. Amy’s eyes were huge as she realized there was no way she could get back into the helicopter.
The rooftops below them grew closer and closer to Amy’s feet as they dropped altitude, but Amy didn’t look down. Her eyes were locked on Brent’s as he fought to hold onto her. Brent felt himself slide another inch out the door, the sweat of his hands on Amy’s arm making it nearly impossible to maintain his grip. He felt her slipping, his heart pounding as her arm slid through his hands. She screamed. Brent leaned a little farther out of the helicopter, trying to reclaim his grip.
Just as her fingers started to slip free, Kel’s voice came over Brent’s earpiece. “Now!”
Brent didn’t hesitate. He felt the hands on his ankles release, and he let go of Amy and allowed his body to fall forward out of the helicopter. He tucked his head and a split second later rolled onto an unforgiving hard surface a few feet from where Amy had landed.
Brent turned to see a package drop onto the far side of the roof as Amy shifted beside him. He crawled over to her to check for injuries. “Are you okay?”
Amy shook her head and looked at him like he was crazy. Stunned, she pointed above them. “We just fell out of a helicopter.”
“Are you injured?” Brent corrected.
She considered for a moment before answering. “I don’t think so.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Brent’s attention shifted to the helicopter above them. He could see the fuel spraying out into the air, and he spoke into his microphone.
“You’re losing fuel fast. Get out of here.” Even as Amy started to protest beside him, he held up a hand to silence her. “We’ll get our feet wet and see you in a few days.”
Kel’s voice came back. “I’m going to drop Quinn first.”
“Negative. You have the wounded. If you land early, you’re going to need all the hands you’ve got,” Brent replied. A second later the helicopter elevated and moved off into the dark sky.
“Are you nuts?” Amy sat up, her eyes wide as she looked from Brent to the helicopter and back to Brent again. “You sent them away?”
“At the rate they’re losing fuel, I’m not sure they’ll make it past the border as it is.” Brent scanned the rooftops nearby as he spoke. “If they take the time to pick us up, and add the additional weight, all of us would be on foot long before we reached the border. The others need medical attention. You don’t.”
The shock faded and was replaced by concern. “Do you think they’ll make it?”
“They have a good chance.” Brent studied her, pleased that she was already working through her shock. “If not, they’ll land and have to carry the wounded out or hide until it’s safe to send another chopper in after them.”
Amy took a deep breath. “What about us? Are we waiting for another helicopter?”
Brent shook his head. “The city is too dangerous to risk sending in another crew to look for us. We’re going to have to take care of ourselves.”
“And you’re okay with this?” Disbelief filled her voice, and again she questioned his sanity.
“Just part of the job.” Brent motioned for her to stay where she was while he went to the far side of the roof and retrieved the pack his teammates had dropped. As soon as he was beside her once more, he opened the black backpack and started pulling out pieces of clothing.
“Here, put these on.”
Amy started to question why, but reconsidered. She pulled the black pants over her sweats, noticing for the first time that her pant leg was torn. She then proceeded to do the same with the matching hooded poncho. When she finished, she turned to find Brent staring at her. She felt her cheeks flushing under the intensity of his gaze.
“Look, before we start out, you need to understand what we’re up against,” Brent started. “Insurgents are taking over sections of the city, and we have no idea how hostile it’s going to get. If I tell you to do something, you can’t take the time to ask questions. You just have to do it.”
Amy sighed with resignation. “This will be a lot easier for me if I understand what we’re about to do.”
“Fair enough.” Brent motioned to the escape ladder on the far side of the roof. “We’re going to start by going down that ladder. If the street is quiet, we’ll try to move out of the city. If not, we’re going to find someplace to hide out for tonight. Either way, we’re going to make our way to the nearest port, where we’ll secure transportation out of here.”
“Please tell me it’s going to be as easy as you make it sound.”
Brent shrugged. He needed her trust, but he wasn’t going to lie. “I’m afraid this job doesn’t come with guarantees.”
* * *
Amy saw Brent’s hand go up, signaling for her to stop. She pressed her body against the building they were passing and froze. He had explained that in their dark clothing, if they could stay in the buildings’ shadows, they would be invisible to anyone passing by. The trick was staying perfectly still and not looking at them.
She heard footsteps approaching and concentrated on keeping her breathing steady. Not looking up when she heard voices took considerable effort, but thankfully they faded into the distance instead of moving closer. Without a word, Brent tapped her shoulder and started quietly down the alleyway once more.
Amy followed Brent silently, perfectly aware that he held her life and her future in his hands. Without him, she would remain lost in this country that was now on the brink of civil war. Finally, after what seemed like hours of slipping through shadows, they reached the edge of the city.
Something rumbled in the distance as they emerged onto an empty street. In front of them was nothing but darkness. In the distance, the black sky was beginning to turn a deep blue, indicating that the sun would be up in less than an hour.
Brent turned to her and spoke in a low voice. “How are you doing?”
“Okay, I guess.” Amy shrugged. “Why?”
“That noise in the distance is enemy tanks coming in to occupy the city. We need to put some miles between us and them.” Brent pointed at the still-dark eastern sky. “There’s nothing but open desert for the next five miles. We have to get past that before the sun comes up.”
“Just point me in the right direction.” Amy shook out her arms and ignored the pounding of her heart.
“Let’s go.” Brent started out at a brisk pace, following the paved road. Less than a mile later, he left the main road and veered off into the sandy desert.
Amy kept up with him, ignoring the way her calves were tightening as she continued to push herself. The lack of sleep was starting to wear on her as the adrenaline that came from fear began to subside. In the distance the sky was lightening, and she could only wonder how far they had already gone.
They came over a rise just as the sun started to break through. Below was a cluster of buildings, a dilapidated car parked next to one of them. Brent crouched down behind an outcropping of rocks and motioned for Amy to do the same. He just stared for a moment, his body motionless. Then he eased himself down onto the ground and pulled out his canteen.
Amy sat down beside him, reaching her hand out when he passed the canteen to her. She took a sip, concerned that the canteen only appeared half full, and the desert and rocky terrain in front of them stretched on as far as she could see. Though it was still spring, Amy knew how hot days in Abolstan could get.
Glancing over at Brent, she started to ask what came next but suddenly was wary of making any sound. He had his binoculars out and was scanning the nearby hills. He then turned his gaze back to the buildings below.
>
As the horizon lightened, Amy looked around, realizing how vulnerable they were. If anyone flew overhead, they would stand out in their dark clothes against the desert sand. The night chill was also quickly dissipating, making her wish for somewhere to change so she could shed her extra pair of pants.
Wearily, she settled against a rock and let her eyes droop closed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept, and her arms and legs felt like lead. The noise of an engine startled her awake, and Brent put a hand on her shoulder to hold her down so she wouldn’t reveal their position. Fully aware of the danger, she nodded, unsure how long she had dozed.
She heard a vehicle driving away and wondered how long they were going to just sit there. Five minutes passed before Brent moved once more. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Without any further explanation, he moved down to the buildings below. The minutes stretched out as Amy struggled with her current reality. What would she do if something happened to Brent? How could she possibly find her way out of this country by herself? She didn’t have any identification or money. In fact, the only things she did have were the clothes on her back.
At least thirty minutes passed before Brent finally reappeared at her side. Over his shoulder was a canteen fashioned out of leather, and his dark hair was now covered in some sort of cloth head-covering similar to what she had seen many of the locals wear. He held a similar headpiece out to her.
“Put this on. We’re going to move into the hills and find some shade so we can get some sleep.” Brent offered her a drink from the water bag. “When it cools down again tonight, we’ll try to put some distance between us and the city.”
“Exactly how far do we have to go?”
“It’s not too far,” Brent assured her with a quick grin that belied the seriousness of their situation. “We should be able to make it to the coast in two or three days.”
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