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Hold On (Delos Series Book 5)

Page 14

by Lindsay McKenna


  Callie. Damn, he was proud of her. She had been brave, hadn’t complained once, and had kept her tears to herself. All she’d shown him was fierce determination in those green eyes of hers. She had heart, but he’d always known that about her. Callie was a fighter. She wouldn’t sit down and cry or be a victim saying she couldn’t do something. No, she’d stepped up to the plate, done what was asked of her, and kept up at the best speed she could. Damn, he loved this woman.

  Beau moved that word around inside his head, allowing it to finally penetrate his heart. They hadn’t known each other that long, but from the first there had been something beautiful growing between them. He’d known they’d be good in bed together, and he hadn’t been disappointed.

  The biggest hurdle was getting Callie to allow herself to maybe love him someday. Beau knew without question that he was falling in love with her. But their relationship was young and this unexpected ambush could shatter the dream he held for them, even if he was able to get her to the safety of Bagram.

  She felt so damn small, soft, and curvy beneath his arm now, huddled up against him, her arm wound around his waist. He could feel the slight rise and fall of her breasts against his chest, exuding her special womanly fragrance.

  He wanted to dream, damn it, but right now, sitting in this cave, knowing the enemy ranged this area routinely, he didn’t dare unleash his imagination. He’d wanted to dream of a future for them, but now, this. Neither of them would have a future if he couldn’t get Callie safely out of this hot mess.

  His mind turned to Matt and his sat phone. If Matt could get high enough up a mountain peak, if the weather conditions cooperated, he might be able to shoot a call off a passing satellite, beaming it down to their HQ at Bagram. Maybe. Matt was probably wondering what had happened to them, as well. If he tried to raise sat phone contact with Beau, he’d fail and figure something had happened to the sat phone, or that it had low batteries. He wouldn’t think the worst because equipment failed routinely out here in this unforgiving land.

  But the worst could happen. And Matt had expected Beau to make that call to Bagram, to get two QRFs, Quick Reaction Force, out here to pick them up. But that wasn’t going to happen. Ordinarily, Beau would not have felt as bad as he did right now because it was common for Delta Force operators to be pitched out into enemy territory without any means of contact. Radios went on the blink all the time. Some got shot up.

  Communications in Afghanistan sucked at best, due to the interference from the mountains, and this was one of those inconvenient times. He did know one good thing: Matt had filed a mission plan with their HQ on going into this village: he’d advised that if they didn’t arrive back at Bagram by 1700, the captain should put out an alert to find them. It was near three p.m., so two hours had to pass before their CO would hit the alarm button, knowing they were missing.

  His mouth twisted as he watched the rainfall outside the cave slit. Drones didn’t do well in this kind of weather, so none would be launched. He was aware that, being up in the mountains, Matt and Dara had probably run into one helluva snowstorm. While Beau and Callie were getting rain now, which was a mixed blessing, that could change, too.

  His mind grappled with the realization that no action would be taken to find any of them until there was a big improvement in this messy weather. Damn it.

  The only good thing was that the Taliban didn’t like getting wet or cold, either. There were plenty of caves in the hills next to this river, where the enemy was probably hunkered down. He imagined them making tea, and then staying warm and dry until tomorrow morning.

  Beau knew that if he and Callie left here at nightfall continuing to head south toward Bagram, they’d put a lot of distance between themselves and their enemy. But if the Taliban were on horseback … well, he didn’t want to even go there.

  Riding a horse and tracking the enemy was a lot faster than going on foot, and most Taliban rode horses. None of the possibilities for rescue looked good to Beau. He knew the military would try to find them—but right now, the inclement weather would prevent a drone from being launched into the cloudy sky. Sure, Apache helicopters operated in all kinds of weather and could fan out to try to find them. But where would they start to look? Their overturned white van, so well hidden in that copse of evergreens, would be invisible to the pilots manning those combat helicopters. And the van would not give off any heat signature either.

  He hoped their captain would tell the Apache pilots to start at the Shinwari village they were supposed to visit. They might be able to send out a Black Hawk with a Delta team on board, to talk to the chieftain of that village. He could ask if they had ever arrived.

  Beau knew the operators would then backtrack to the only road leading into that village. But they had been six miles away from the village when they were attacked. And with their lousy luck, the weather was probably going to turn to snow as the night deepened, with temperatures plummeting. Beau figured the rest of his team would be rabid to get out and locate them, no matter what it took, no matter the inclement weather. Delta operators worked, no matter the season or conditions.

  But even if they found the van and Mohammed’s body, they would have to conclude that the four of them had been captured by Taliban. Or else, they were on the run with radios on the fritz. Beau knew the operators would be looking for and following tracks to try to determine what had happened.

  He wasn’t sure what he himself would do in such a scenario. Their team would hope desperately that the four of them had escaped. The operators wouldn’t know they’d split up until they started looking around for tracks, and Beau knew they would. Delta operators were good at putting puzzle pieces together, and sooner or later, their team would start to get the picture and realize they’d split up so they could make it back to Bagram.

  And then? Well, that could be several days in the offing. Weather, especially snow, would cover up their tracks. On the route Matt had planned to take, snow would have wiped out any trail he left almost immediately as he moved up in altitude toward that pass at nine thousand feet.

  Damn, this didn’t look good. Beau had to focus on the knowledge that Delta soldiers didn’t give up on teammates and wouldn’t leave any man behind. They would expend every effort and scour this area mercilessly, trying to locate all of them.

  Callie stirred, and he held her a little more tightly as she whimpered. It was a small sound, but it tore at him. And then she nuzzled into his chest, sighed, and fell back into a deeper level of sleep, her arm loosening across his waist, once more sagging against him. He leaned down, pressing a light kiss to her uncombed hair.

  He worried about what her parents and grandparents would feel like once an Army officer drove out to their ranch to tell them that their two daughters were MIA. The devastation to their close family would be equivalent to a bomb going off in their home.

  The fog of war, as Beau knew too well, was capricious at best. Was he glad that sat phone had taken the bullet meant for him? Yes. But it also put both their lives in jeopardy. Worse, Matt and Dara were in equal trouble unless Matt could get his sat phone to work in those damn mountains, which was pretty unlikely.

  And that left both of them only one option: to go it alone and forget about being saved by anyone else. And know, for damn sure, the Taliban was hot on their trail and it was just a matter of time until they would locate and close in on them.

  At that point, Beau knew it would come down to a battle, and that he had to protect Callie. She had to survive this—even if he didn’t make it. He was responsible for her and would fulfill his promise to keep her as safe as he could. But would it be enough?

  CHAPTER 11

  Callie moaned softly, feeling Beau’s lips against her hairline. She was so tired she wanted to remain in that deep, healing sleep, but she knew she had to wake up. Slowly, she inhaled the scent of his warm, strong body. Even now, it made her heart pulse, awakening the passion he had stirred within her before all this had happened.

  She love
d this man. She knew it and she admitted it. Life was too short to delude herself about her feelings now. She slid her hand up his chest, feeling his dry, warm T-shirt and the powerful curve of the muscles beneath it. For just a moment she languished in that in-between state, not really awake, not really asleep. Her senses were coming back now, and she relished the way his skin tightened as she smoothed her palm across his chest in a caress. She heard him chuckle.

  “Hey,” he murmured, kissing the top of her ear. “You need to start waking up, gal. It’s time to get going …”

  Making a muffled sound of displeasure against his chest, Callie tried to snuggle even more closely against him. She heard Beau give another slight laugh and he threaded his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp, and that made her grateful for his tenderness under the circumstances.

  “Now that I have your attention …” He smiled against her temple.

  “Don’t … stop … ,” she said, her voice muffled against him. His fingers were making her scalp tingle and radiate with such delight that Callie sighed and sank into his care.

  “You’re such a pussycat,” he growled, amusement in his low tone.

  “Mmm, I am … You make me that way …” Her voice sounded far away, and Beau felt wonderful in every way to her. As she awakened more, Callie became aware of how stiff her legs felt as she started to untuck them from against him. Grimacing, she opened her eyes.

  “Ah,” he drawled, “the princess has decided to join the real world.”

  Snorting softly, Callie slowly eased into a sitting position next to Beau. Her thick, long hair fell around her, and she raised her fingers, pushing the bulk of it away from her face. Looking around, she saw it was now dusk outside the slit. “What time is it?”

  “Seventeen hundred.” Beau could barely see her face in the grayness. He cupped her cheek where the scratch lay against her jaw. “How are you feeling? And”—he pinned her with an intense look—“don’t sugarcoat this for me, okay? I need to know what shape you’re in physically, Callie.”

  “My legs,” she muttered, straightening them out in front of her. “They’re really stiff.”

  “Yeah, that comes from all the walking and trotting we did. Any cramps?”

  Shaking her head, she rubbed her face, trying to fight the need to simply lie down on that sleeping bag and rest some more. “Just … tired. Really tired, but we’ve been running hard,” she managed to say, her voice still drowsy.

  “Yeah,” he murmured, getting to his knees. He reached into his ruck and pulled out two MREs. “Hungry?”

  Her stomach growled.

  Callie grinned belatedly. “I guess I am. What are those?”

  “MREs, ‘meals ready to eat.’ I always keep a bunch of them in my ruck. I’m going to fix us dinner and then we’re gonna have to leave this nice, dry place.”

  Rising, her lower legs screaming in protest, Callie began to slowly do stretching exercises to ease the pain. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  Beau pointed toward the slit. “Go over there. I promise, I won’t watch.”

  “Like you haven’t seen me bare-butt naked before?” she teased a little, the sleep beginning to dissolve.

  “I think you have the nicest ass I’ve ever seen,” he told her, preparing the MREs with quick efficiency. “But if I watch you, I’m likely going to say to hell with our food and carry you back here and make love to you.”

  Callie absorbed that growl of his. Even now, Beau was so damned sexy. But she knew he was teasing her. They were in a dangerous situation, and there was no way he’d compromise them like that. Keeping her tone light, like his, she said, “It’s nice to know you appreciate my body.”

  “My appreciation stretches far beyond that sweet body of yours, but I can’t show you right now, gal.”

  His thick, husky tone left no doubt in Callie’s mind that he wanted her. It sent a heated riffle through her, landing squarely between her legs. “Not a good idea to go there right now, even though I’d like to,” she admitted, standing and watching him work on the MREs.

  “You’re right. It’s not the time to think about the good things life can bring us. We need to eat, hydrate, and then leave.”

  Nodding, she yawned, placing her hand against her lips. “Okay …”

  Smiling absently, Beau watched her walk stiffly toward the slit. Outside, the rain continued to fall. The temperature was lowering, just as he knew it would. True to his word, he turned his back toward the slit, giving Callie a modicum of privacy.

  For the next fifteen minutes, they ate in silence. Beau watched her carefully for clues as to how Callie was really doing. She was a rough rancher’s daughter, and he knew she would never whine or complain. Aside from scratches from some of the brush they’d had to push through, she looked reasonably fit considering the ordeal she’d been through.

  “That was good,” Callie murmured, folding up the package and handing it back to him. “I’m so glad you’re carrying these.”

  “It’s what we eat when we’re out on an op,” he said, placing it back into his ruck. They never left anything behind. If the Taliban spotted their trash, it would tell them a lot. They would remember this cave as one to spot check in the future for enemies contained within it.

  “Did you get some sleep?” Callie searched his darkly shadowed face.

  “Someone has to remain on guard, darlin’.”

  Her heart widened with appreciation, and love for this man poured through her. He lifted his eyes to hers for a moment, and she felt that invisible embrace he always gave her. Gratefully absorbing it, she said, “You have to be exhausted, Beau.”

  “Nah,” he murmured, finishing off his meal and tucking the used packet back into his ruck. “I’m used to this kind of gig.”

  Shaking her head, Callie whispered, “This is a hell of a way to find out what you Delta Force operators really do.”

  Nodding, Beau got to his knees, rummaging through his pack. “Well, for now you’re one of us.” He handed her a set of NVGs and pulled out his own pair. “We’re going to wear these. It will help us see through the night. Ever worn a pair before?”

  She took them. “No.”

  For the next few minutes, Beau instructed her on how to work them. “We’ll be able to navigate through the night because we can see everything, including anyone in the area, human, animal, or bird. But I don’t think we’ll see any Taliban, because they hunker down and sleep during the night hours. They don’t usually have NVGs like we do.”

  “That’s good,” she said, relief in her voice. And then she gave him a worried look. “Beau, does my family know what’s happened to us?”

  He decided to tell her the truth, hard as it would be for her to hear it. “Yes, I’m sure an Army officer has already visited them.”

  “Oh, God,” she managed to say, her hand against her throat. “What would they tell them?”

  “That you and Dara are MIA, Callie. ‘Missing in action.’”

  “Oh, no,” she said softly. “They must be so worried!”

  He reached over, gripping her hand. “It’s going to be hard on them, because they aren’t going to know what happened to either of you.”

  “B-but, will the officer tell them anything else? That we’re being looked for out here?”

  He nodded. “Yes, the officer will inform them that they’re mounting a search for you, for sure. They’ll most likely say that you two were heading out to an Afghan village to render humanitarian aid but didn’t show up there, so you’re officially missing.”

  She pulled her hand out of his, pressing it against her lips, tears glittering in her eyes. “This is going to tear them up.”

  “It will,” Beau agreed quietly, packing his ruck and Velcroing it shut. “It’s the hardest thing we have to do, and we hate having to do it.”

  “And what about your parents, Beau, and Matt’s? Will they be told you’re both MIA, too?”

  “Yes, of course,” he admitted heavily. His parents had never h
ad an Army officer go to their cabin to inform them that one of their sons was MIA. He looked up to see the devastation in her shadowy green eyes, the way her soft lips twisted with grief.

  “Callie,” he said, and reached over, gripping her hand where it rested on her thigh. “Don’t go there. You have to remove all your feelings from this situation. You can’t operate out there in the night worrying about how this is going to affect everyone, you just can’t.”

  Giving a jerky nod, Callie whispered, “I know …”

  “Good.” He gave her hand a comforting squeeze before he released it. “The best way to help your family is to focus on what we’re doing right now. The more attention and alertness we put into our hike, the faster we’ll get back to Bagram.”

  “I-I understand. And once we get to safety, will everyone’s families be notified?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “Count on that, Callie. And they’ll do it just as fast as humanly possible so the families don’t suffer unnecessarily.” He saw a little relief enter her worried expression.

  There wasn’t a chance in hell that Beau was going to tell her that their safety was far from assured. Let Callie keep her hopes up for both of them.

  *

  It had taken Callie a good hour to get used to the flat, two-dimensional display of the NVGs she wore. Beau had a more advanced set that gave him three-dimensional capability, and he was doing his best to lead her so she wouldn’t stumble or fall. The rain was constant, with more gusts coming their way as they threaded in and out of hilly areas along the river.

  Beau had set a good pace, but not as fast as before, and for that, Callie was grateful. Rain ran down her face, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Sometimes it blurred her NVGs. Her fingers were permanently cramped into a clawlike position around his web belt. The gravel was often thick, making her feel as if her sore legs were slogging through peanut butter. She could see everything in grainy green, which buoyed her. They never spoke.

 

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